Memories and Nostalgia
by Theia Aithre
Summary: In the summer of Balaiya's 29th year everything starts to fall apart when she has to move back into her Father's house after getting evicted. To make matters worse, while packing up her things, her friend Hilda discovers some old photos tucked tightly away in a box she never opened, from a program she started seven years back. A box that stirs up old feelings and new complications.
1. Memories

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! (I know I said see you next year but I decided this was a thing and this idea forced it's way out of me!) This was written for Claudeleth week! [Monthly prompt for January] since I am working on my Twin Fic it was hard for me to just delete the other twin for this fic, so I decided to keep the same idea— the Byleth's are twins and I've used the name I have for female Byleth in here which is "Balaiya" let me know if that's too jarring or something!

*This is a **modern-like** AU, using names and locations from the game.

Thank you!

~Enjoy

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Memories and Nostalgia

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"Hilda, can you I don't know– not look through every folder I have in there?"

"Aw, come on Balaiya– these are so cute!" The pinkette held up some photos of her brother and herself from high school. "You guys had almost the exact same haircut."

Balaiya frowned and set the stack of books down on her bed, and moved over to look at the photo in question. Her frown deepened. "Ugh, I hated that year… not many people look back at highschool with fondness." She reached for the photo. "Give me that."

Hilda laughed and held the photo away from her reach. "Well I do!~~" She sing songed. "Besides, you met me that year! So it wasn't all that bad."

"Yeah. That was also the year you convinced me to do all of your history homework." She snatched the photo back and tossed it on her bed. She glanced at the photo once more before turning back to her friend. Their hair really was the same then…She definitely preferred where her hair sat now, delicately at her hips, much like Hilda's.

"But I always asked nicely! Besides, you were always so good at it." She grinned up at her then went back to rummaging in her closet. "It gave you good practice miss _I went on to get a masters in history_. Oh! And a teaching degree."

Balaiya rolled her eyes and filled up another box with– coincidentally, a ton of history books. Getting her bachelors degree was one of the toughest things she had to do in her life so far, she was lucky to have her brother and such good friends to support her. It was definitely worth the struggle since she won a scholarship that paid for her master's program.

"Your brother's a teacher too right?" Hilda called back– head buried in an old box. "What's he teach again?"

"He's a language Professor." Balaiya replied, and started picking up everything Hilda tossed into what was earlier deemed the: _Throw this away, you don't need it pile._

"Ah! That's right. Where is he now anyway? Did you ask to see if you could live with him instead?"

"He's all the way in Sreng. Doing some program with the students there. Besides his place is too far from where I teach Hilda."

"You could have moved in with me!" She re-emerged with another box that had an impressive layer of dust on it. "I just think, moving in with your dad will greatly reduced your life as a young bachelorette!"

Balaiya rolled her eyes again, and tied up a trash bag. "Hilda, I'm twenty eight."

"That's still young! You are at the peak of your feminine charm and capability!" She threw her hands up in the air and started pulling items out of the new box.

"I'm a teacher. I have no time to play games." She sighed, and sat on her bed. "Do you want some tea Hilda? I think we should take a break. It's been hours."

She dramatically pointed a finger at her. "Teachers are still allowed to have some fun! C'mon, when was the last time you had your pipes checked?"

Balaiya felt her nose scrunch up. "Who even says that? And I'm surprised by your work ethic. What's gotten you so motivated?"

Hilda paused, and her voice took on a serious tone. "Honestly, it's because I noticed you were struggling… I wasn't going to mention it until you did, but you asked and I guess I didn't want to lie."

_Oh_. Did getting drunk at Dorothea's engagement party last moon give her away? She wasn't even a crazy drunk, and she _knows_ she didn't black out… though she figured announcing she was getting evicted at said party wasn't the best thing to do…

"Ah, well thank you for your help. Really." She picked at a few fuzz balls from her blanket, and stood up. "So, tea?"

She opened up yet another old box and started flipping through it. "Yeah, let me just get this last— Oh my goddess!" She gasped and quickly scrambled to her feet. "Bala! Who—what?"

Balaiya sighed and kept walking to her kitchenette to start the tea.

"Girl! Who's this!?" She shoved a photo in her face of someone she hadn't seen in half a decade.

Her heart skipped, and simultaneously sank into her stomach. "Nobody." She reached for the photo but Hilda quickly spun away from her.

"Oh, goddess he's handsome! Are there more? Ooh!" She took off back to her bedroom.

She had half a mind to chase after her but she couldn't for the life of her remember if there _were _more pictures… she thought she threw them all out, and she didn't remember taking that… her mind was swirling too much with memories to allow proper brain function anyway. So she just stood there in silence while her throat burned and the faint smell of pine-needle tea shoved it's way to the front of her memory.

"We have to talk about this!" Hilda bounded back into the room with a box in hand, one much smaller than the one she'd opened. It was free of dust, indicating it must have been inside the other. "I don't know if I should be mad at you or not!"

Balaiya blinked rapidly, and exhaled slowly. "What do you mean?" She asked as she carefully reached up into her cupboard to get two coffee mugs.

"Who's this handsome snack?" The _flop_ of the polaroid being shook assaulted her ears.

"He's just a guy that was in my masters program back in Almyra. I only had a few classes with him." She brought the cups over to her tiny table, and pulled up a barstool she'd gotten from Catherine's bar. "What kind of tea do you want?" She mumbled.

"Do you think dry tea leaves can expire?"

"I don't think so– why?" She looked over at her with a frown.

"'Cause I want whatever tea this is!" She held up a what looked like tea leaves, corked in a glass container.

Oh.

"Why don't you pick something from my shelf Hilda? They're there for a reason."

She started to fuss with the cork. "Nah, I want to know what this tastes like."

"Hilda, don—"

_Pop_

"Got it!" Hilda grinned triumphantly, and skipped over to prepare the leaves.

Balaiya could only stare with mild panic while the pinkette poured the dark liquid into their cups.

Almyran Pine-needle tea— she hadn't remembered having brought some back with her…

Hilda took a sip from her cup, and smacked her lips. "Ooo! It's pretty good! What else is hiding in here?" She peered into the box once more, and gasped again. "Balaiya you little liar!" She held up another photo.

Her heart could have stopped.

"_Mhm just a guy _my ass girl!" She shoved the photo in her face. "What's this then?"

Balaiya winced and stared at the photo in grim silence. It was a picture of her from about five years back. She had the biggest (goofiest) smile on her face, and _he_ had his arm around her waist, and the other outstretched, probably holding the camera. He was pulling her tight into his side— the kicker was the sloppy kiss he was pressing into her cheek.

"Who's that?" Hilda prodded urgently.

She felt her palms start to sweat, and her throat dried. "His name is Claude…"

She hadn't said that name in five years, it felt so strange rasping it out now. Like the very syllable would cut the flesh on it's way out.

"Aaaannndd?"

"And we were friends." She muttered through gritted teeth. She reached for the photo, but once again Hilda evaded her. Irritation shot through her faster than hard liquor ever could.

"This doesn't really look like _just friends_. You were totally dating weren't you?"

"No. I never agreed to be his girlfriend." She finally snatched the photo, fully intending to rip it up, but when she glanced at it– she paused.

By the stars did she miss him…

And here she thought she'd gotten over him…

"I know that kissing on the cheek is a common greeting among friends in other countries, but hon– that's not a friendly kiss. Besides! Look how close he's holding you! And don't give me some lame excuse like, oh that's just to fit in the camera frame. You're a teacher, you can come up with a better excuse than that."

She pursed her lips, she hadn't thought about him in about a year— or was it six months? And now he just literally pops back in her life during the worst moment! Hilda would never let this go…

"I'm not lying… we were friends. He sat next to me in some of my classes, we studied together…" She looked down at her mug and carefully, hesitantly lifted it to her lips. She closed her eyes when the wonderful drink touched her tongue. The flavor had definitely dulled due to age, but it was still there.

"Okay, but can you explain this picture?" Hilda held up the photo again.

The tea really was good, she'd forgotten what it tasted like… she took another sip and set the mug down carefully, a sigh on her lips.

Hilda _tsked_, "That was a dreamy sigh, I can't believe you never told me about him! How dare you!" She dug her hand back in the box and pulled out another corked vial, when this one opened up the smell of spices wafted out and mixed wonderfully with the smell of the tea.

Balaiya set her elbow on the table to support her chin. A memory flashed through her mind of the first time he cooked for her, followed by the first time he made her– as he said, _real tea._

The first time she ever had tea made by hand, he'd explained the processes the leaves went through with enthusiasm in order to make it to her cup. He had opened up a cupboard with many jars filled with all sorts of spices, leaves, and dried fruits. He'd picked out ingredients from different jars and proudly presented her with what he called: Almyran pine-needle tea— a wonderful blend that was far richer than whatever the store sold in bulk in tiny soulless tea bags.

"And what's this?" Hilda asked, and produced a golden bracelet with emerald jewels decorating it. "Wow, it's beautiful! Are these real?" She examined the jewels closely.

She felt her stomach churn, she'd never seen that bracelet before! "Hilda? What else did—" She swiped the box and peered inside. "I don't recognize any of this…" She whispered and held up a picture of her taken when she attended his cousins wedding, she had been his _plus one_ as he'd called it. His cousin had been so kind to her and apparently really wanted her in the wedding as well. So her first time being a bridesmaid was entirely different than she'd expected. He'd gifted her some beautiful garments to wear for the event. The bright colors and lovely sashes that adorned her body was just as foreign to her as the dark and intricate designs that stained her palms over the next few weeks after that. A lovely tradition that took such effort and patience. The hours she spent in that small room while her palms were decorated flashed to the forefront of her memory. She'd insisted on doing both hands at once to save time– quite a mistake when you couldn't properly feed yourself, though he seemed more than happy to assist her…the twinkle in his eyes that burned her memory could still bring heat to her cheeks.

She flipped to the other side of the photo to find some writing in the back— in Almyran— though she couldn't remember how to read it properly…

Hilda gasped again, as if realizing something. "He sent you a care package!? That's got to be what this is! You can't be telling me you've never seen this box before!"

She shook her head slowly, and carefully unfolded a letter that was in his elegant handwriting— she again couldn't read it. "I didn't know…" She mumbled and felt her throat burn again, and her chest ache.

Hilda continued to pull out items that just left her speechless.

A shell from her first time _ever_ to the beach. He'd dragged her out on a particularly hot day and never told her exactly where he was taking her, just that she'd _never want to leave_. There were a lot of places she never wanted to leave if it meant staying with him…

Bangles he'd let her wear during a festival, they'd gotten up way before dawn and went to the courtyard of the town— the people had a roaring fire blazing and more song and dance than she could take in. Everyone wore beautiful garments and shouted out to the sky their joy for the new year. It was the first time she ever lost her voice from use alone…

_Another,_ jar of tea leaves, no doubt his favorite.

A piece that belonged to his favorite board game– one that she could never best him at.

A photo of him hanging upside-down from a tree— a ridiculous wink on his face, and his pose even more so, two finger guns pointed at the camera. _This_ image she remembered taking, she'd taken his polaroid, and snapped a picture of him while he bragged about something that escaped her.

Hilda took that picture and examined it. "Wow, _and he had a good body?" _She pointed to his obviously opened button down. "And a sense of humor, apparently. Goddess! Balaiya, you got to fess up! What does the letter say?"

She shifted in the seat, uncomfortable. "I don't remember much of the language…" There were only a few phrases she remembered, and the letter was written in a version of the language she hasn't known until she'd gotten there. One he taught her, the one she forgot.

"How could you study something for so long and forget?!" She slammed her hand on the table.

"I dived right into Brigidish and Dagdan right after!" She defended. It was true, she'd locked up all her things from Almyra, and focused diligently on other things. The history of a place far away from the world she knew.

"Well, I feel like you _wanted_ to forget." She grew serious again. "Did he hurt you hon?"

"No!" She answered, offense seeping into her tone, as if she'd asked if _she'd_ hurt him… but then— she probably did… did she?

"Well then? If you had this amazing experience in Almyra why didn't you ever talk about it? And why did you date that guy from your old job at the bar? I mean, don't get me wrong. Your ex was cute, nice and all, but I don't think you guys had that spark… the one I always talk about! But still, he was nice. I was surprised when you suddenly broke it off with him."

Balaiya groaned and covered her face with her hand. Why was she bringing up her ex? That was just another thing she tried to forget… she'd definitely hurt him when she randomly broke up with him… But it wasn't so random for **her**, just everyone else that thought they were such a cute couple.

"You know what? Fuck it…" She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "I broke up with my ex because— because the last time I _was_ **with** him, ya know, my ex—" She waved her hand around and Hilda lifted an eyebrow and nodded. "Well… I saw _his_ face…" She sighed and gestured to the silly picture of him hanging upside-down.

"Did you call him the wrong name? Ooo!" She gasped, and covered her mouth. "You two did it, didn't you?" She shook the photo again. "Don't lie to meeee!"

"No! I didn't call him the wrong name Hilda, sheesh…" She pressed her hands together and sighed heavily. Spilling the beans now wouldn't really put her in a deeper hole than she already was, would it? "The Masters Program I did was two full years, summer included, remember?"

Hilda nodded. "Uhuh, you left on your twenty first birthday! I was so sad to see you go!"

"Well… I spent that first year by his side… we really did work on many projects together." She took a steadying breath. "And the second in his bed…"

Hilda gasped so loudly it startled her. "I knew it!" She nearly shrieked. "What happened!?"

She frowned deeply and swallowed thickly, her chest constricted tightly. "I— don't know… the program ended and we graduated… then I left…"

"You left? Did he ask you to stay?"

She nodded.

"And you still left? Just _poof_ gone! Like that?" She snapped her fingers. "No contact, **ever**? For _five years?"_

"I had to leave! I had to come home…" She was promised a good job, a wonderful internship, a great opportunity! She worked so hard for these things, to get to where she was now! She couldn't have just abandoned it! For what?

For a warm smile? A tight embrace, a reason to laugh? A beautiful land with a beautiful boy, with an even beautifuler pair of beautiful emerald eyes…

"Hmph, I'm sure you could have visited! I can't believe this…" She pulled out a small pouch and opened it. "These are pretty!"

Balaiya leaned over to look at her new discovery, and gasped herself. "Those were his earnings…" She whispered. "He only ever wore one though…" She felt her eyes burn as she reached for the delicate hoops.

"He gave you all of this without you noticing? I have a feeling you were supposed to find this _years_ ago… He was totally in to you! You said it yourself he asked you to stay! Why didn't he come with you?"

"He— I…we… I told him I wasn't looking for anything— it sort of just _happened…" _She mumbled.

Hilda whipped out her phone. "I can't believe this, you are still into him yourself! I can see it in your eyes!"

"What are you doing?" She frowned. "And I'm not! I just… he was a good friend. I miss him is all…"

"I'm trying to see if he has any profiles online! We got to find a way to contact him!"

"No, no! You can't!" She tried to take her phone.

"Why not?" she dodged, and stood from the table.

"Because I…" She chewed her bottom lip. "Because he's probably married by now…" She blinked back the tide from her eyes. He probably hated her by now… or better, forgot all about her. She wasn't a very memorable girl, too odd for most yet not odd enough to be considered special, just weird.

"I'm making some phone calls. You haven't convinced me that you never want to see him again."

"What? How? You didn't even give me a chance!" She protested as if she were still an adolescent. As if _she_ were the student arguing with her teacher for a better grade. How'd she get reduced to this so quickly? Absurd.

Hilda sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Fine, I've got Dorothea on hold. Give me one thing you miss about him." She put her hand on her hip.

"One thing I miss? Isn't that counterproductive?" She frowned, her mind racing. This was a trick question, wasn't it?

"Hurry up! One thing! Tell me!" She demanded.

Balaiya groaned and covered her face again. "I don't know?... His eyes?" His laughter? His smile? The food he used to cook for her? The way he said her name…

Hilda narrowed her eyes at her and turned back to her phone. "Hm, I thought so." She cleared her throat. "Hey Dorothea! I have a huge project!" She walked out of the room.

Balaiya hit her head on the table and reached for the photo of him kissing her cheek.

Should she have picked something else to say?...


	2. Nostalgia

A/N: _RoseGold25_: Thank you for your review! I hope you like this chapter too! I wasn't too confident about this story's success on this site so I'm glad you like it!

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Chapter 2: _Nostalgia_

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_Her last book neatly tucked into her bag, Balaiya stood, and swung it over her shoulder. This next week definitely felt like it was going to be hectic. The Professor had assigned such a large research project to do– with the option of working in groups. _

_The only bad thing was that she hadn't asked anyone yet if she could pair up or join their group, and no one had_ _asked_**_ her_**_ either. And today was the last day to decide. With a sigh, she carefully moved over to one of the steps that lined the lecture hall, and made her way to the front where the Professor stood collecting everyone's paperwork._

_'It won't be that bad, you always preferred to work alone anyway when Leth wasn't around.' She thought to herself, and slipped to the back of the line. 'Yeah, but this isn't highschool, or undergrad— this is your masters! There is so much more work.' Arguing with herself had become the norm lately. This was the first time she was completely alone, and she often felt it heavy on her chest. Her whole life was spent besides her twin, even undergrad! Now? She was thousands of _**_miles away and_**_ from him. From home. In a country that didn't even speak the language she spoke in her thoughts. _

_The professor rose a brow at her when it was her turn, and she cleared her throat. "I'll be working alo—" _

_"With me.~" _

_She stumbled over her pronunciation in her confusion as her interrupter handed the professor a sheet of paper. _

_Not wanting to make a fool of herself she calmly glanced to her side to see who spoke, slightly relieved to find a familiar face— but she couldn't remember a name. _

_Instead she nodded her confirmation and walked out into the hallway, her new partner on her heels. She tightened her grip on her bags strap and tore her eyes away from the tile that blindly reflected the fluorescents into her eyes to focus on his face. _

_He must be in some of her other classes, but she still couldn't figure out his name! Though she was relieved that she wouldn't have to shoulder such a work load on her own anymore she was irked that this guy didn't even _**_ask _**_first! On top of that he didn't even introduce himself to her, she'd just have to do it then. _

_"What makes you think I don't have a group already?" She winced internally, that hadn't been what she'd meant to say but— would saying sorry make her look silly? _

_A smirk snuck onto his face, and he stretched his arms behind his head. " _**_Do _**_you?" _

_She frowned, the tone he used was somewhere between smug and innocent, and the tilt he did with his head didn't held her ability to judge on which side it leaned more towards. She felt heat creep into her cheeks. _

_Cute. _

_Her eyes widened as the word passed through her mind, and she mentally scolded herself. She didn't even know this guy! He probably used that same innocent— or smug aura of his on all the girls! She was too old to be entertaining these trains of thought! She was way past that stage in her life— at least she thought she was. _

_He laughed, seemingly unaffected by her less than friendly response. Or was he mocking her?... _

_"I'll take that as a no then." _

_"Hm…" She sighed, if he was going to ignore her rudeness, the best she could do was apologize, and thank him. A proper introduction wouldn't hurt either. "Sorry… I'm Balaiya. Thanks for letting me work with you. You are?" _

_Amusement filled his eyes again, but he made a gesture of mock offense— his hand covered his heart and his brows furrowed. "Ah, am I so easily forgettable? I introduced myself on the first day of class— I'm Claude. I'm the incredibly handsome fellow that sits next to you in three of your terribly interesting classes." He laughed again, and she found the heat in her cheeks spreading to her ears, this time from embarrassment. "After all they must be if you forgot me already!" _

_She looked over him again, and it clicked. He was right! He'd sat next to her on the first day, and introduced himself quite kindly. _

_She must look like a tomato— she definitely felt like one. _

_"Oh." Was her intelligent response. _

_. _

* * *

_. _

_Stars? _Balaiya frowned, and rubbed her eyes, why were there stars on her cieling?— oh.

She sighed, and sat up. Her childhood room hadn't changed too much— if at all from when she used to share a room with her brother. She pushed back the faded pink comforter that covered the bed that occupied the corner of the room. She glanced up at the ceiling, a small smile forming. When they'd started highschool her brother moved to his own room down the hall. She'd been very adamant that the stars stay on the ceiling when her father remodeled the room for her.

She was surprised her father hadn't changed anything since she last slept in this bed.

Her feet quickly found coverage in her worn out slippers, and she opened the door that lead into the long hall.

_Everything stayed the same._

She thought, and stepped over that one floorboard she just_ knew _would creak if she so much as touched it. She ran her hand along the wall as she slowly made her way to the staircase at the end of the hall.

_Same old worn out carpet, same cracks along the wall._

She sighed, but couldn't help the small smile. Was it nostalgia? She remembered talking to her father about him fixing up the house, but that was years ago.

_Nothing seemed to change._

She slipped into the tiny bathroom— more of a cubby than anything, and washed her face. Her travel toothbrush still where she left it in the medicine cabinet from the last few nights— besides the same old toothpaste her father had gotten since she was a child.

She shuffled out into the kitchen and prepared a pot of coffee. A full pot was necessary since her father did enjoy his coffee black. She took out two mugs and placed them on the counter.

The coffee finished it's brewing, and her father appeared in the doorway. "'Mornin Bala. Sleep well?"

She moved the cups over to their small kitchen table— big enough for four, though one chair sat with the same old stack of books on it that had been there for years.

She sighed, and handed him his cup then sat across from him. Images of her dream resurfacing. "It was okay. I'm rested enough."

He nodded, and drank from his mug— the same one that had a chip in one side ever since her brother dropped it in Middle School, and miraculously it hasn't shattered. She'd never seen his eyes so big.

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she took a sip from her cup. She instantly recoiled. She'd forgotten the creme. A tired sigh announced her displeasure, and she retreated to the fridge. Warmth filled her chest when she found the small cartoon of creme in the fridge— still unopened.

Her Father chuckled. "I got that for you the other day. I know you don't usually care for the bitterness."

"Thank you." Coffee now to her liking, she returned to her seat, and surveyed the kitchen once more. The walls were still that soft lavender that signified the gentler touches that spoke of someone that once filled the halls with soft laughter, and even softer smiles. Someone who's stuff still lingered on a chair that hadn't been touched in over two decades. Except like all things, faded, and peeling.

"Have you heard from Leth?" Her father asked in his gruff voice. One that must have been the result of the years of smoking he did in his youth— until he quit. Only to start again after_ she _was no longer around. Because what other reason did he have not to?

She eyed the ashtray that sat in the middle of the table, where once a vase of flowers used to nearly shine. She couldn't remember what kind of flowers though.

Perhaps _some _things changed.

"No I haven't, I actually didn't pay too much attention to my phone these last few days."

She didn't want to answer the flood of messages she was sure waited for her— left there by her oldest friend. "I was just, enjoying being home." She said instead. There was no point in telling her father why she didn't want to look at her phone. She eyed the chair again. He didn't need to hear about her immature woes.

"I told him you came home." Her father leaned back in his chair. "He's going to try and make it for your twenty ninth."

A groan left her lips, and she rubbed her eyes. "Don't remind me how old I'm getting." She drummed her fingers on the table. "Why don't you tell me what you've been up to? Do you still go to Alois's house to watch the game?"

He laughed then, an honest one that made her smile. "That bastard owes me forty bucks! Last week we bet over which team would win, and he lost— miserably too. I might have to strangle the money out of him!"

"Don't do that. Alois means well."

"Yeah yeah, oh, have you gone to visit anybody yet? What about Catherine? I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."

She shook get head. "No, I haven't gone to see anybody yet…" She smirked. "Knowing Catherine she probably just wants to get an apron around my neck again."

"Hmm, a little summer job might not hurt Bala. You've got the whole summer off— being a teacher and all. You might as well do something. I'm surprised pinkie hasn't broken down my door since you said you haven't been answering your phone an—"

The shrill_ ring _from the terribly old corded phone that hung on the wall interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.

"How much you want to bet that's her?" Her father said with a smirk, and went to answer it.

Balaiya covered her eyes. "Nothing. Please don't answ—"

He did anyway.

"Hello? Oh! Hello there… mhm. Yeah she hasn't, that's right. She'd love to. Twenty minutes? Perfect. She will. Yup, see you soon."

A frown cut into her face. "Father!? What the—"

"Yup that was Hilda. She's coming to get you in twenty minutes."

She groaned, and stared down at her cup mournfully. "Gee, thanks."

He slapped a torn piece of notebook paper infront of her. "Whenever you get the chance, could you get some things for me while you're out?"

"Fine." She muttered, and snatched the list off the table.

She really didn't want to go anywhere. To the store? _That _she didn't mind. Running errands for her father was no problem, but going out with Hilda? Knowing the girl surely had an agenda made her wish she had a valid excuse _not _to go anywhere.

Hilda showed up surprisingly exactly twenty minutes later in her cherry red convertible, and announced her arrival with a honk and an obnoxious "I'm here!" As she burst through the door.

Balaiya signed, and stood from her place on the couch. The simple black t-shirt and boot cut jeans she wore with tennis shoes looked awfully plain next to Hilda's bright pink dress— a color that only enhanced the tresses that hung from her head in two mature twintails atop her head. "I knew I should have taken your keys." She mumbled and greeted the younger woman with a hug.

"Oh you'd never!" She squeezed her, and turned to Jeralt who watched them with amusement. "Hello Sir. Eisner! I brought you some coffee grounds!" She waved the bag in the air then handed them to him proudly.

"Thanks. I can never have enough." He chuckled then motioned to the door. "Make sure my little girl has a good time. She's been cooping herself in doors these last few days."

"I will~ " Hilda grabbed Balaiya by the shoulders, and forced her out of the house and into the passenger seat of her car. "Hun, I hope your whole wardrobe isn't so— single momish."

She felt her face heat up. "There's nothing wrong with my wardrobe. Besides I'm shocked you're on time. You're usually late." Balaiya muttered, and brought her hair over her shoulder so she could play with it. Or release some nerves. She'd worn it down, nothing in it. So her head was framed with baby hairs, to which her shadow on the car door reflected with embarrassing accuracy.

"It's only for you hun. And looks like I might have to take you shopping." Hilda popped on some cat eye sunglasses and readjusted her mirror. "You're forcing me to. I mean, if you're going to be acting so gloomy, then someone needs to kick your butt so I can go back to my laid back schedule."

"You're a hair stylist. You're schedules usually busy isn't it?" Balaiya asked with a raised brow.

"Yes, but I've now become the creme of the crop! People _die _to let me do their hair. I could technically only have two appointments a week and live off of that!" She swung out of the driveway. "But I enjoy too many things, a girl has to indulge herself now and again. So, of course I take more appointments." She offered her a stick of strawberry gum.

Balaiya shook her head. "No thank you."

Hilda shrugged, and took one herself. "I've taken some time off for you hun, which means a few less shopping sprees for me." She hung her head solemnly.

"Where are we going?" Balaiya asked with a defeated sigh. It was never a good idea to fight Hilda when she made up her mind. Especially, if she'd rearranged her schedule for her. The best thing she could do was let the current take her.

"We're going to Catherine's! I invited our friends, and the only way you are getting out of this, is if you jump out of my car." She laughed and sped up slightly— the wind whipping around them as if to punctuate her sentences.

Balaiya glanced over the car door, and _almost _considered it.

.

* * *

.

"And that's the story!" Hilda's voice sang like an overzealous sports announcer.

Dorothea hummed, and took the dantiest sip from the glass that balanced in her hand. "Sounds like quite the story, have you found any trace of him online yet Hilda?"

The pinkette stuck her lip out in a pout. "No, I was thinking if I knew his last name it might be easier to find him. Almyra has so many more people than Fódlan does, even though I don't think his name is Almyran…"

Balaiya covered her face with her hands. "Hilda, can you please leave it alone?" She glared at the fizzy drink in her cup. Hilda had told Catherine she wasn't allowed to have alcohol today, as if she were some sort of child. "When's Mercie and Annette coming?" She asked, hoping for a subject change.

"Annette is stuck in traffic." Hilda snapped her gum. "And I _bet _Mercie's just gotten out of bed."

Dorothea seemed to notice her distress and came to her rescue. "Hilda, sweetie, have you considered whether or not she even wants to see him again?"

"I did!" Hilda crossed her legs and inspected the toe of her stiletto. "I asked her what was one thing she missed about him– you wanna know what she said?—"

Balaiya frowned, and turned in her seat to face the two girls. "Hilda—"

"She said his eyes! Now can you tell me, does that sound like an answer of someone that never wants to see someone again?"

Dorothea hummed. "Well… what color were they?"

Balaiya frowned. "It doesn't matter. I was just— confused as to why she was asking me the question."

"Were they brown?" Hilda prodded.

Her mouth started moving before she had the mind to stop it. "No, they were green… but in the sunlight— they sometimes looked golden…"

Dorothea and Hilda stared at her for a moment then at each other. Dorothea nodded. "You're right."

Realization hit her, and she waved her hand between their faces. "No, no. That doesn't mean anything! You guys. You're making me seem like a foolish teen."

Hilda shook her head and moved her hand. "Honey, please. That's all you."

"I'm searching too, but there are so many people with his name. What's his last name sweetie?" Dorothea asked.

Balaiya ran a hand through her hair and sat back in her chair. "Guys please. Can you just drop it?"

Dorothea put her phone down. "What are you afraid of? If he's taken then we should find out. Wouldn't that be better than living forever not knowing?"

What she was saying made sense, but at the same time… she eyed the ring on her friend's finger. If he_ was _taken— could she even… She shook her head. Did she even deserve to feel upset if he was when she was the one that left him in the first place? They hadn't even been together! They weren't even a couple… And yet…

Yet, he still held her so close.

He still let her hold his hand…

Still let her ask for more…

Let her _take._

"It… probably wouldn't hurt." She mumbled after a moment, but the words felt heavy on her tongue.

"That's the spirit!" Hilda showed Dorothea something on her phone. "That's what he looks like."

"Oh! You were right, he is handsome. I wonder what he looks like now…" She turned back to her phone. "Bala, sweetie. Can you please give us his last name? If we_ do _find him. We promise we won't mention you at all, unless you want us too. Will that be better? Hilda won't either." She sent a glare to the Pinkette. "Right?"

Hilda sighed dramatically. "Fine. We won't. Promise. Unless you want us to."

Balaiya stared between them silently, her lip trapped between her teeth. As long as they kept their promise then no one really needed to get hurt again. Except for possibly her, but then again— she would deserve it.

"I guess that sounds fair…" She sighed heavily, and tightened her fist around her napkin. "His last name is Riegan… if he does have a profile anywhere— it'd probably be under_ von _Riegan…"

It was a remnant of Fódlan's old naming practices. Sometimes families still kept the link their ancestors had in their names, but today it didn't mean anything really. She started tearing the napkin into small bits.

"His name is from Fódlan?" Hilda gaped.

"Wait— Riegan?" Dorothea's fingers started flying across her screen. "That sounds familiar!"

Dread filled Balaiya's chest.


	3. Reminice

The soft tinkling that announced her entrance into the tiny bakery put a smile on her face. Mercedes's shop had always been a place she could come just to relax, though she hadn't visited the bakery in a long time. Of course she never left the place without buying something. Despite how much the older girl insisted she didn't have to. Today she finally got the courage to reach out and ask for her friend to spend some time with her. So Mercedes suggested they see a movie after she closed up shop.

Mercedes kept her schedule the same, she would take lunch at 11 o'clock and end just before noon so she could be present for the rest of the day. As a result she didn't have time for any other breaks and usually had dinner after she closed. So Balaiya decided to bring her food before their outing. Even though the dinner rush wasn't as hectic as the snack hour she was definitely surprised when she walked in at six and saw a tall redhead leaning on the counter.

"What would you like today Mr. Gautier?" Mercedes asked with the sweetest of smiles. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stepped closer to her oven— her kitchen had always been open, allowing customers the opportunity to watch her work.

"Hm, I'm not sure. What do you recommend?" The man tilted his head back to briefly look at the handwritten menu.

Mercedes smiled wider and slipped on her oven mitts. "We'll, I'm just about to fetch the batch of sugar cookies in the oven."

"Then I'll go with one of those." He produced a simple dollar from his shirt pocket and held it between two fingers.

Balaiya tilted her head and moved over to one of the small tables to wait. Was this guy really buying _one _cookie?

Mercedes pulled out the tray and set it on the counter. "You're going to have to wait a few minutes for them to cool a bit. I hope you don't mind, Sir."

He shook his head and handed the dollar to her. "I don't mind at all Ms. Martritz."

She smiled again and popped the dollar in her register. "So, how is your new apartment?" She grabbed a spray bottle and started wiping down the counters.

The man shrugged and moved off the counter long enough to allow her to wipe it before he was back to leaning on it. He was either friends with her, or a cocky regular. Balaiya didn't want to eavesdrop, but she also wanted to make sure her friend stayed safe.

"Eh it's alright. Awfully small, much too quiet." He sighed and started playing with her business cards. "It could also use some decorating, I'm terrible at that. My walls are bone white."

"Hmm, well maybe you could get a tapestry? Those are nice ways to brighten up a room." Mercedes grabbed a small paper bag and slipped one of the cookies in it, she then folded the bag over and carefully sealed it with a sticker that sure looked like a heart. "Here you are." She smiled warmly and handed him the bag.

"Thank you Miss."

"Have a good night Mr. Gautier." She waved her mitten at him.

He grinned and shoved a five into her tip jar before ducking out of the shop.

Balaiya watched in silence for a few moments before loudly clearing her throat. "What was _that _, Mercie?"

Mercedes jumped and turned to her with widened eyes. "Oh! Bala! You're here already? Since when did— I…" She fussed with her apron. "What was what?"

She sighed and moved over to her counter. "I walk in to find you so absorbed in conversation you didn't even hear the chime when I arrived!"

"I didn't greet you? Oh my— forgive me. Here, I'll do it now—"

"No, it's okay. I'm only teasing Mercie!" She shook her head in emphasis.

"Welcome to Treats by Martritz! I hope you like sweets! How can I help you?" She smiled gently.

She couldn't help but smile back. "That rhyme really is adorable, but really— I was just kidding. I don't mind waiting for you. Though you have to explain to me what I just saw."

"What do you mean?"

"Mercedes, you sealed his cookie bag with a _heart_sticker. It's not even close to Valentine's."

Mercedes's eyes widened. "You saw that? Oh— oh Bala, I don't know why I did that! It just happened…" She sighed heavily and covered her face with her hands. "I don't know what's gotten into me, I need advice."

"Advice? On what?"

There weren't many scenarios that she could think of where Mercedes needed help dealing with people. She was such a people person in fact she often helped strangers on the street! Her mind whizzed past the possibilities. Was this man harassing her? The conversation didn't seem inappropriate, in fact rather than pry her for information he spoke more of himself. There was also the fact that the older woman seemed flustered for sealing his purchase with an out of season heart sticker.

"Mercie, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Goddess knows I'm terrible at this. I'm sure you've heard all the details by now from Hilda and Dorothea about me, but— do you like this man?"

"Oh goddess…" Mercedes sighed and pulled up a stool to sit on. Her whole body seemed to slouch in on itself. "He's nice to talk to."

Balaiya eyed her friend carefully. "Do you know his name? I heard you call him Mr. Gautier, but…"

"His name is Sylvain. I try to keep things professional. I was surprised he chose to call me by my last name too. All my other regulars call me Mercedes." She fussed with her apron. "That must mean he doesn't— I mean…"

"Maybe he's only doing so because, _you _do so?" She offered.

"I do that with all my customers though!"

"Has he always been so formal?"

Mercedes sighed and shook her head. "He addressed me by name the first day he ever came in. You know the way many do,they read your name tag. He introduced himself, but I insisted on being formal."

"How long ago was that?"

"Maybe four months? It couldn't be much longer."

Balaiya nodded slowly and pulled out the dinner she'd picked up for Mercedes from her bag. "How often does he come?"

She took the bag with a silent thank you and tapped her cheek. "Well I used to be every other week, then every Sunday. Now, I see him everyday. He'll come in, buy a cookie for a dollar then leave a five in my tip jar sometimes more…"

"Mercie, he just gives you almost two hundred a month in tips alone? Has he asked you for anything?"

"Oh my, I didn't even realize how much that was… well he asked me to dinner a while back, but I respectfully declined. Perhaps I should return his money? I don't want to be giving him the wrong idea…"

"No, I'm not saying you are… does he make you feel unsafe?"

"Oh goddess no. He's actually quite charming." She smiled and happily bit into her sandwich.

"Then… Why don't you have dinner with him sometime? What's stopping you? I wouldn't miss the opportunity." She sighed and looked down at the bracelet that Hilda had found in her closet. It now felt heavy on her wrist. Heavens knew she had done just that. Missed an opportunity. But she had a good reason!

She tore into her own sandwich. Had she though? She'd spent the last few weeks being questioned about it so much that she started to question herself!

He was so kind to her, even when initially she had been anything but. Then when she'd gotten comfortable, she'd pushed.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm nervous. Even though it was ten years ago, my last relationship didn't end well… as you know." She sighed and rubbed at her neck where purple fingerprints used to stain her skin.

Balaiya felt a chill run down her spine at the memory. Even now, Mercie still wore scarves almost every day. "It's understandable. Just know I'm here to protect you. Hell, I know the others wouldn't hesitate to help you if you need it Mercie."

She laughed. "I know, but that's why I haven't told even Annie about this guy."

"Really, why not?" Balaiya tilted her head, she couldn't think of a reason why Mercedes wouldn't tell her oldest friend well, _anything _.

Mercedes sighed and dabbed at her face with a napkin. "Well, he went to highschool with Felix— they didn't get along too well."

Her eyes widened. "Annie's Felix?"

"Yes! It gets crazier though because I guess he was married to Ingrid, but they separated after only being together for barely three years."

Balaiya quickly went over the different faces she'd seen at get togethers. "I thought Ingrid was engaged to Felix's brother."

"Now she is. But I suppose she eloped with this guy right after highschool… "

Balaiya observed her friend silently for a moment. "Did he tell you all this?"

"Yeah he actually did. I wasn't too surprised though. Many of my customers tell me their life story." She smiled and stood to prepare some tea.

"Why did they split?"

"That's the problem, he said he cheated on her." She sighed and turned back to her. "I turned him down when he first asked me to dinner but that was before he told me all that… He hasn't asked again, but lately. I find myself looking forward to seeing him everyday. I can't help but wonder— what if he stops coming? Will I ever see him again? I _do _consider him a friend. I even offered to give him treats for free but he refused the offer."

That was certainly a lot to take in. This Sylvain guy must be really into her if he was being so honest about his mistakes. Granted, it could also be a method of putting her guard down, but Mercie wasn't disarmed so easily. Not after what _she'd _been through. For her to be so conflicted over this must really mean something. Mercie was and is a kind soul. She treated everyone with such kindness.

Balaiya waited until Mercedes returned to the table with their cups before speaking. "Mercie, if it was me that told you these things… that I'd cheated and hurt someone like that. What would you say?"

She sipped her tea, mulling over it for a moment before saying. "I would try and find out your reasoning. However I know things like that are complicated. People often do things without thinking, without thinking about how they could hurt others." Her hand ghosted to her neck again. "And potentially even themselves. Over all, what matters most is that you are sorry, that you recognize your mistakes. The want and effort to be a better person is what counts. If they could do those things then I truly believe those people deserve a second chance."

"So… maybe that's your answer then." Balaiya said.

"I… guess you're right." She smiled and dug into her apron and pulled out a worn looking piece of paper. It had a tear on one side and multiple creases, as if it had been open and closed multiple times. "I'll— I'll give him a call." She looked up, her brows furrowed. "Bala, would you drop me off? And maybe pick me up as well?"

"Of course, any way I can help you. I will."

A wider smile spread on her face. "Thank you." She stood and started clearing off the table. "Oh I asked before even figuring out any details! Silly me…"

Balaiya shook her head. "No it's okay. Wherever you need to go. I'll help you."

The two women flitted about the store, finishing up closing for the day. Balaiya swept and mopped the floor while Mercedes took care of the kitchen. All the while Balaiya couldn't help but think back on their conversation. Even though she used herself as an example, Mercede's advice didn't feel that far off from her own situation. Her own friend, whom she cared so much for. He'd only asked her out once as well— she made sure to tell him she wasn't looking for anything serious. She just wanted to focus on her studies. But she'd been selfish, a part of her knew even then. But she was feeling the guilt even heavier now.

She stared down at her reflection in the floorboards with a quiet sigh but all that she could see was striking green eyes. She leaned in closer. Was it just her guilt causing her to see him now? Lately everything she did jogged up a memory, but now she was seeing things? If she listened hard enough she could just barely make out a voice… and the jingling of keys.

.

.

"_Hello! I've returned, my friend!"_

_Her door swung open and Balaiya looked up to see her friend walking through the door with a few books in his arms. "I can see that." Sure stated bluntly and returned to scrubbing the floor. The mystery stain continued to laugh at her as it refused to even lighten up. She scowled at her reflection. Everything else was spotless but this damn spot!_

"_Ooo, someone is in a bad mood~." Claude walked over and looked down at her. "What are you doing?"_

_She glared at his stupid face in the floor. "I'm trying to clean this stain— obviously. And just because I gave you keys to my apartment doesn't mean you can pop in without texting me first."_

_He laughed and knelt beside her. "Ah, shall I leave? I wanted to surprise you."_

_She sighed and shook her head. "No. You can stay."_

_He nudged her head with his. "You take a break. I'll do this. Why don't you spend the rest of your day reading these?" He held up the books._

_Her eyes widened. "Are they for me?"_

_He nodded._

_She threw the rag down and eagerly took the books from his arms. Her eyes scanned carefully over the script. Reading Almyran gave her almost as much joy as speaking it. The language often looked as beautiful as it sounded. She did her best to pronounce everything properly, to give it justice. Even now, after so many years of study, she __**still **__had people telling her she had an accent._

_He chuckled and picked up the rag. "They're classics. Wonderful myths and legends. I know how much you like history. These are actually an important part of our culture."_

"_Thank you so much." She smiled and moved over to the oversized cushion she had haphazardly thrown in the corner when she moved here. "That's really kind of you."_

_He grinned and started scrubbing the floor himself. "I saw the titles and thought of you, my friend."_

_She chewed the inside of her lip. Claude's pronunciation was what she found herself trying to mimic. At first she'd picked her Professor as a reference, but though he was also from Almyra. His speech felt so robotic. Claude treated words like a poem. And the way he said _'my friend' _made her squirm. Made her ache… restless._

_She forced herself to focus on the text in front of her and was soon deeply engrossed in the fantastical tale that danced across each page._

_The smell of fresh tea pulled her out of her revere and she moved over to the corner where her kettal sat._

"_Hope you don't mind, I made tea." He grinned and handed her a mug._

_She took it wordlessly and looked over at where the stain __**used**__to be. "You cleaned it?" Her eyes widened in disbelief and she put the cup on the counter to go inspect the floor._

"_Yup. All it needed was a little gentle coaxing." He smirked and winked at her from over the rim of his cup._

_She stared down at the floor then back over to where he stood then she turned to where she'd left the books he'd gifted her. The nerve of him, to just quite literally barge in and flip her day around so easily. She was feeling rather sour before he arrived. Now? It was as if her mood had never been bad to begin with. "How do you always manage to make me smile?" She muttered and walked back over to him._

_He shrugged nonchalantly and set his cup beside hers on the counter. "Talent?"_

_She looked at their cups then at the other dishes newly cleaned and stacked to dry. He'd also done her dishes. Funny how he came over so much she now had almost two of everything. "How long do you plan to stay?" She mumbled quietly._

_He shrugged again. "Not sure. As long as you want me to." He laughed slightly. "But really, I could help you with dinner if you want. Or we could go pick something up?" He took his card out of his pocket and waved it in her face. "Or we could order something? Whatever works, my friend."_

"_Whatever works?" She repeated quietly._

"_Mhm."_

_She stepped closer to him and looked up into his face. She couldn't remember what she did before he started coming over. Weren't there days where she skipped dinner even meals for the whole day? Did she ever read for fun before? Why did she continue to pretend she wasn't actually looking forward to his visits? Isn't that why she gave him a key? They were friends, nothing more or less, she'd stated as much some time ago. Still, the thought of him never stopping by again, of never seeing him again._

_She had a year left of her degree and though it filled her with joy to know she had gotten so far. She felt hollow._

_She hadn't realized she was kissing him until she felt his hands cradle her face. He responded without hesitation, his lips molding against hers with an eagerness that burned. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her hand twisted into his hair._

_He must have added spice to the tea again. Something she discovered some time ago he liked to do._

_Against her better judgement she deepened the kiss, trapped him against the counter she knew was behind him._

_There was so much more she wanted, but her mind was whirling. She felt unsteady. Lost._

_She brazenly pushed further, fueled by the strange emptiness she felt._

_His hands never left her face despite the way she pushed herself into him, and she found no resistance when she prodded her tongue into his mouth._

_She wasn't sure if the sigh that touched her ears was actually hers, but she felt a jolt of panic settle into her stomach when he pulled away from her._

_What had she done?_

_Despite it all he didn't recoil, in fact he retreated just enough so she could see his face. His brows were furrowed but he continued to cradle her face in his hands. As if she were precious._

_She wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. Growing up she'd always been treated so coldly. Failed attempts at relationships always ended with her getting called heartless, so she stopped trying._

_And whatever this was, whatever friendship they had. Surely she ruined it before anything could even be considered. She'd already shut it down._

_She expected him to get angry or upset. Yell at her or push her away._

_Instead he smiled that smile that always seemed to take her breath away and he gently rubbed his thumbs into her cheeks. "Why do your eyes look so sad, my friend?" He whispered like a prayer, a secret._

_She swallowed thickly and attempted her own smile, but her lips trembled too much. What was wrong with her? Was she homesick? Lonely? Desperate?_

"_I— I don't know."_

_He smiled again and nudged his head against hers. "That's okay. Whatever you need, I'm here."_

_._

_._

"Bala!" Mercedes swept back into the lobby with a grin on her face.

Balaiya startled at her friends sudden entrance and nearly knocked over the mop bucket. "What is it Mercie?"

"I'm going to meet up with him at the park by the lake then we're going to have dinner across the street at that wonderful little diner."

"That sounds great Mercie! When?"

She colored. "Oh, um next weekend."

"Alright. If you need anything. Don't forget I'm here—" A frown tugged at her lips. Just how many things had she been saying that were subconsciously just repeats of things he'd said to her?

Would he even remember her?

"Bala? Are you alright?" Mercedes gently took the mop from her hand.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She forced a smile and followed her friend out the door.

"Are you sure, dear? If it's the girls bothering you. I can speak to them."

She shook her head slowly and inhaled the crisp summer air. "I don't know…"


	4. In Retrospect

A/N: The first part has suggestive scenes. Nothing too graphic or explicit which is why I kept the T rating. Please Let me know if you believe I should change it!

Thank you for reading!

RoseGold25: Ah! Thank you so much! I'm honored you think so! I don't know what to say! That means to much to me!

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Chapter 4:_ In Retrospect_

_._

_._

_She was definitely glad he lived alone, she certainly couldn't remember ever being so vocal and currently she thought she'd die of embarrassment! _

_ She'd lost track of how often they ended up like this. It started off simple, if one could call it that. Clothes stayed on, allowing only curious hands to wander. But she had gotten greedy. Wanted more. There was a part of her that wondered if he did as well, so often was he left to his own devices. And so when she'd asked, blunt and to the point as she so often did. He laughed_ _, whether in embarrassment or not she did not know. A nonchalant reply was all he gave, and things only escalated from there. _

_ He reappeared from underneath the covers, his hair a wild mess. The smuggest grin plastered on his face. _

_ She glared daggers his way. She'd kick him in the face if he said _ ** _ anything_ ** _ about it. _

_ "You know, I was thinking." He gave her a wink and lifted her foot up, massaging it before placing a kiss to the top. _

_ Her muscles twitched and she narrowed her eyes in warning. Her feet were the only things on her that were ticklish, and he'd found that out the hard way. _

_ More importantly, what could he have been thinking about? Hopefully he didn't mean while he was— she huffed and untangled a strand of dark hair from around her fingers. _

_ He caught her eye and winked again which sent another wave of embarrassment through her. She lifted her foot to kick him but he tightened his hold on her ankle and tugged her leg over his shoulder. _

_ She yelped at the sudden proximity. _

_ He spoke so casually whilst she sat with her knee hooked over him. As if they were sitting across each other with a table between them. Her face felt so warm she thought she might burst. "My cousin is getting married in a few weeks. She's been running around like a headless chicken." He sighed and pulled her other leg around his hip before looming over her. She wasn't sure who was more impressed with her flexibility as they progressed, herself or him. Though he did seem to like to test her. To twist her in new and exhilarating ways, and like water forms and molds around anything— she would take any shape if it meant pulling him closer. _

_ Wordlessly she tightened the leg around his hip and pressed herself tighter against him. She quite enjoyed the subtle way his breath caught when he continued to speak. _

_ "Would you come with me to her next rehearsal? I don't know if I'd be able to offer her much support on my own. Her best friend was supposed to do all of this for her but she ghosted her the last few meetings. Poor girl called me crying at three in the morning." _

_ She stared up at him for a moment. Her breathing finally slowed. At first she'd wanted to keep all the lights off— she couldn't bear to look into his calculating eyes when they were like this. Would he be able to see the terrible selfishness seeping from her own? He asked once if he could see her, it was randomly—while they studied together in the library. She nearly choked on her tea. But, she agreed— after all, it was the first thing he asked of her in _ that _ regard. But she hated it, hated feeling so exposed, not in the physical sense of course, it was more as though he could read her inside and out. But she loved seeing him smile, the damned idiot… she eventually settled on a single dim light going forward… _

_ But that light always seemed to accentuate his brilliance, and something deep in her chest would always twist until she was short of breath. _

_ She shook her head slightly and said with a sigh. "So you offered to help?" That was so like him. To offer his assistance in things he surely didn't have a clue about. Especially for his family. One thing she knew about him was that he'd cross a raging river for his family. Asking for nothing in return. _

_ "Naturally." _

_ She clicked her tongue and tried to ignore the way his hand wandered over her. "I don't know if I could be of any use myself." She bit her lip. "I'm not good with socializing." _

_ "Nonsense." He leaned in and placed a few bruising kisses along her collarbone— that was one of her rules. No marks on her neck or higher… _

_ Thankfully he hadn't questioned her request, in fact there were a lot of things she requested that he didn't ask her to clarify. Could it be because he understood her so well? Or was he just as lost as she was? She didn't want to think about it. Not while the only thing left separating them was his thin sheet… _

_ He looked up at her from underneath the thick curl of his lashes, a pout on his lips. "It's this weekend— the rehearsal. Don't make me go alone, my friend. I would most likely die without your support." The way his hand pressed into her breast betrayed the innocent look in his eyes, and it grew difficult to form coherent thoughts. _

_ She inhaled deeply to keep her voice steady. She didn't need a repeat of earlier… "I highly doubt that, but since you asked so nicely—" He never asked anyone for help. People always sought him out if they needed something because they knew he'd comply. Anyway he could. So to have him asking _ ** _her_ ** _ to help him. Even if she hated parties. How could she say anything but yes? "I suppose I can endure it… For you." _

** _This_ ** _ sent a visible blush to his cheeks and he buried his face in her neck. _

_ He whispered against her skin. "Then I'll pick you up this weekend. Or you could stay over? Whatever works." _

_ "Whatever works, huh?" She hummed to herself and started twisting her fingers in his hair again, tightening and pulling the lot of it through her fingers. " _ ** _I _ ** _ was thinking. Since you keep dragging me everywhere it'd be easier if I just crashed here with you. You um… mentioned wanting a roommate. And my lease is expiring…" _

_ "That's perfect! It all works out then!" He kissed her neck with just enough pressure to make her heart quicken, but nothing more. _

_ A shudder passed through her. "Just do me a favor." She murmured and tugged on his hair a tad harder— the way that always got a reaction out of him, pulling him back so she could make eye contact. "Stop talking already." _

_ He laughed and turned to kiss her wrist, and the way his eyes shone made her heart jump. "As you wish.~"_

_._

* * *

.

Bala! Do you like this dress or this one?" Hilda shook two small cocktail dresses in her face. Probably the tenth pair this afternoon.

"I don't know Hilda. Why can't I just wear some dress pants?" Balaiya sighed heavily and rubbed her face. Daydreaming! And about_ that _ of all things. What had gotten into her! In public too! It wasn't like she was actually doing anything though, but still.

"Because that's all you ever wear for your job. Besides Dorothea wants us all to match for the photos!"

She sighed again and stood to look through the rack herself. "You know, all of that isn't for another few months…"

Hilda shook her head, her pigtails bouncing about. "You should know better than anyone not to have important stuff for the last minute—teacher lady!"

"Yeah… I know."

The mall was a place that Balaiya admittedly hated going to. It was packed with so many people, often those were young people and she knew from experience that young people were not always pleasant to be around. Besides, in her defense— she _ was _ a high school teacher. She didn't want to be around these young people any more than necessary, especially on her break. And though it was still early, Hilda had dragged her out to find _ appropriate _ clothes for Dorothea's bachelorette party. She had thought her only saving grace was the company of Annette and Mercedes, but she'd forgotten how much they too loved shopping.

At least Mercedes didn't allow the other women to be too harsh on her _ mom _ jeans. Maybe it was because Mercedes had been dubbed the _ mom _ of the group despite not having children of her own.

"I don't particularly look good in colors Hilda." Balaiya said after finishing the rack and finding nothing she liked.

Hilda smacked her gum. "Lies! I saw how gorgeous you looked in those wonderful garbs from Almyra. Remember the photos?"

She sighed heavily. "Yeah. Just pick whatever you want and I'll wear it."

"Really?" Hilda grinned widely.

Thankfully Mercedes walked over with a black dress adorned with a red ribbon around the waist. "It has red in it like Dorothea requested! I'm sure you'll look lovely in it!"

"That's perfect Mercedes!" She took the dress from her and held it in front of herself.

"Hm, I still think this one is sexier, but that one works too!" Hilda ushered them all to a register. "Good, because I'm hungry. Let's pay up and get something to eat."

By the time they actually made it out to the food court Mercedes and Annette had enough bags to cover potentially the whole bachelorette party. Lucky for them they had found a good sale, not so lucky for their arms.

They quickly got their food and sat at a small square table.

Hilda cleared her throat and pulled out her phone. "Bala, I wanted to tell you. Dorothea and I found some interesting things about your friend."

"Oh! Are you talking about her Prince Charming?" Annette giggled.

Balaiya shook her head with a frown. "P-Prince? No. Whatever Hilda said to you is bogus. We were friends, end of story."

The redhead looked down with a sigh. "Oh but Felix is _ my _ Prince Charming!"

Mercedes giggled behind her hand. "That's sweet."

"Okay! So the news! We found out that the Surname _ Von Riegan _ is actually the name of a wealthy business owner. On the downside, we couldn't find anything connecting him to a person named Claude… so potentially it's not related… I guess the guy has a daughter but we couldn't find anything on her either."

Balaiya sighed and started picking at her food. "I see. That's probably why it sounded familiar to Dorothea then. With her being around blue bloods and all. Thanks for trying but we should really drop it now."

"Well, I think you should at least read that letter! Tell us what it says!" Hilda ripped into her sandwich.

"Letter?" She wracked her mind in search of what she could be talking about. Why was she drawing such a heavy blank?

"The one we found in that box! How could you forget already?" She gasped. "Don't tell me you threw it away!"

_ Oh _ , _ that _letter… "I didn't!" She protested. "I just haven't looked at it since then."

"Hilda, if she doesn't want to. We shouldn't force her." Mercedes interrupted. "How would you feel if you were in such a situation?"

"I'm just trying to help my girl out Mercie! She does so much for us! She never even asks for anything in return. The least we can do is try to make her happy."

Balaiya pushed her food away, no longer having the appetite to eat. "I _ am _happy, Hilda! I just don't like going out all the time."

"I'm sorry hun, but I don't believe you." Hilda pointed a french fry at her. "You're in a funk. I can see the way you float around your dad's house. You only leave if I drag you out!"

She covered her face with her hands. Hilda was right, and she hated it. She was in a funk, she hated going out as of late. She constantly felt alone. She was happier sitting beside her father while he watched the game, a cigarette in his mouth. But even that had its own downsides.

Besides the awful smell, her father coughed a lot lately. So much more than usual, he always sounded in pain during his fits. More than once she'd run to get him water only for him to drop it on the floor. She felt helpless then, while she knelt beside him and rubbed his back. Helpless when he sat up only to light another. Helpless, when he seemed to find more solace in a cigarette than her company.

It was finally catching up to him wasn't it? And all she was doing was sitting and watching. Her Father hid things well, but she was observant. It didn't take her long to piece it together. She knew how he still suffered, not just from the smoke. It sat there plain as day in the dusty books that covered that_ one _ chair. In the faded paint that peeled from the kitchen walls. And she ignored it like she ignored the twist of her heart every time her friend had held her hand. Everytime he said her name.

He missed Mom…

Much like she missed Claude.

Oh if her brother could see her now, what would he think? Growing up she'd never been such a coward. She didn't care what people thought of her as long as he was with her.

But that was it wasn't it? He wasn't. It was his turn to be miles away. She couldn't help but wonder how alone did he feel when she left him? How alone did he feel now? Did he have anyone to comfort him? Like she…did.

Their birthday couldn't come soon enough. She'd be older, but he'd be home. And maybe not so alone.

"Girls, I think I'm going to head home." She stood and did her best to smile. "I'm tired."

They glanced at one another but thankfully didn't say anything.

"Okay, you're still coming over for movie night this Friday right?" Annette asked almost shyly.

Balaiya nodded once. "I'll be there. A promise is a promise."

She perked up. "Okay good! I can't wait! We're going to be picking the movie out of a hat!"

"Sounds like a disaster." She said and smiled again to show she meant it as a tease. "I'll see you girls later."

Once out of their line of sight she picked up the pace and all but ran out to the parking lot, where her dad's beat up pickup truck sat waiting for her. She got in the truck and tossed her bags in to the passenger seat.

"What am I doing?" She glared at herself in the rearview mirror. "Do I just need to find a hookup?!" She scowled and covered her face with her hands.

Pretending it never happened had gotten her so far, but now she was daydreaming! She wasn't safe awake or asleep.

She sighed heavily and started the truck.

Ever faithful, it sprang to life with little complaint.

As she backed out of the lot she caught sight of her face in the mirror again and scowled.

"Why didn't you keep in touch with him?" She snapped at herself. "

_ All you would have done was hold him down! He was too nice to you. Far too nice. He deserved better than you. Better than you could have possibly offered. All you ever thought about was yourself. _

"I didn't… I—" She bit her lip and blinked the blur away. Everything inside her chest burned. Who was she kidding? There were so many opportunities in the past she could have taken to reach out. To check in. But she was afraid, cowardly, so what did she do?

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she turned onto the freeway.

"I ran away." She muttered under her breath and glanced back at herself in the mirror. "I have to read that letter…"

Maybe then she could finally put this issue to rest.

She did her best to keep focused on the road the rest of the way home, but her mind kept wandering to _ what ifs _.

What if the letter makes her situation worse? How could it even make it better? Would it?

What if she finds him and something terrible happened to him? How would she cope? Would she even have the right to?

She shook her head as she pulled into her Father's driveway. _ Of course I would _. She thought grimly, they had been friends! She was in his cousin's wedding! She met his parents for new years! A frown tugged at the corner of her lips as she fumbled with her keys. She was close to his family.

Hadn't she been?

She dragged into the living room and tossed her bags on the couch. "Dad! I'm home." The smell of cigarettes assaulted her senses and she reluctantly followed it. "How was your day, Dad? Did you win that bet with Alois?"

She turned the corner to the kitchen when coughing started. "Dad?"

The shattering of glass hit her ears before she saw what happened. But when she rushed into the room she saw him leaning over the counter, a pile of broken china at his feet.

"Dad? Here, let me help." Quickly, she pulled a chair over from their kitchen table and led him over to it.

"Can you—get that?" He gestured to the shards as his body was once again wracked by terrible coughs.

She handed him a glass of water and looked over her shoulder at the mess. "Of course." Once she made sure he was relatively steady she reached for the dustpan. Her father's voice startled her away from it.

"No!" He pressed his hand against his chest and the other against his mouth.

"What is it Dad? What's wrong?" She asked carefully. She hardly ever heard her father raise his voice. Instead of yelling at them as children he would just grab them firmly by the wrist or pick them up by the back of their shirt. So she was more than taken aback by his outburst.

"Just put it on the counter." He mumbled and shakily reached for his lighter.

She sighed, why didn't she have the strength to take the damned thing away from him? "Okay." She knelt down and carefully picked up every piece she could. Did he want to try and fix it? She shook her head, they had plenty of other dishes left. So why would be go through the trouble of—

Her eyes landed on a piece that had a tiny flower on it and instantly the smell of gingerbread cookies overwhelmed her senses.

.

It was a cold day, they'd been snowed in. So her Father decided to build her brother and her a fort in the living room out of the couch cushions and a few blankets. They wrestled together and soon her brother declared themselves a knight and their father a dragon. They proceeded to 'defend' the fort until a soft voice called them to the kitchen. They had raced each other to the table where four steaming cups sat. Two matching ones for herself and her brother. A large one with her father's favorite sports team logo on it, and a delicate white one with a tiny flower…

.

Her throat went dry all of a sudden and she brushed her thumb gently over the design.

_ 'This was mother's…'_


	5. Bygone Days

A/N: Special chapter!~

Usually I format the flashbacks in italics, but this whole chapter is set in the past so the formatting is kept normal!

This chapter carries the same warnings as the last chapter- suggestive themes and scenes, no graphic depictions.

KittyKat-Belle: Thank you! I'm so happy to hear that you enjoy this fic too! I'm really enjoying writing this myself. You mentioned a chapter in Claude's pov, funny thing, I had this written out for some time before that, I just wanted to space the upload apart. :)

I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. I send to you good wishes! And I Thank you for reading, l'd love to know what you think! This is my favorite chapter so far!

* * *

Chapter 5:_ Bygone Days_

.

.

_ Hopefully when you find this letter, my friend— you'll already be home! I'm not sure what I would do if you discovered it before then. There are a thousand things I wish I could tell you, but I lack the words and the courage needed to even begin. As you know I've asked if I could go with you. But you've been adamant I not "abandon my family" and I would truly never keep you from your dreams so, here we are. _

_ I wish you luck on your journey home, and wherever you may go henceforth... You have always been resilient, I know you'll succeed. Though I wish not to even mention it I find I am unable to do so. The time we've spent together has meant the world to me. You've shown me how to live and I thank you for that. I never truly trusted, until you, and I want you to know, though I've been more than selfish I never intended to take advantage of you. I hope you never felt that way, but my conscious won't let me rest if I never establish that. _

_ I know— _

"What are you doing?"

"Ah!" Claude jumped and quickly flipped the paper over. "Nothing~."

Balaiya narrowed her eyes at him. "Mhm, sure."

He held her gaze for a moment longer before giving her a wink and causally placing the paper in his drawer. "How goes the packing?"

_ Packing _ , he couldn't believe it. She was really leaving. And while he was truly excited for her, a part of him stung whenever she mentioned it. Now _ he _ was talking about it as if it were nothing, when the very words tore up his throat like swallowing tiny razor blades.

"Ugh, I might be losing my mind with all of the last minute errands I've been running. Making lists, reading them over so many times only to realize I've missed something— so it's going great." She sighed heavily and twisted her fingers into his hair. "I'm so tired of being hunched over my suitcases."

He tilted his head back to lean on her chest. "Why don't you go for a walk? Breathe in the fresh air?" _ Why don't you stay? _ He wanted to say instead, but he knew better. That conversation was one he constantly played in his head, but never said out loud. He wouldn't dare. Not when he knew what she'd be abandoning if she stayed. She had a life to return to, family, friends, and _ now _ a good job! Who was he to stand in her way?

She started to braid a section of his hair. Not counting the one that framed his face, at this point he already had two others scattered about. "A walk? I just walked back from the corner store. I don't think another one will do me any better."

"Well, are you hungry? I can make you something."

She hummed quietly, her nails absently scratching lightly down his neck.

He sighed. Did she know how absolutely wrecked he has been the last few days? How utterly devastated he already was, and she hadn't even left yet! Though one of the more innocent things she's done, it still tore him to pieces.

He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, he only meant to do that and nothing more. But she must have taken it as an invitation, because she leaned down and kissed him square on the mouth— just a breath longer than what would be considered chaste.

She pulled back just enough to speak. Each syllable ghosted against his lips, like a finger beckoning into the dark. "I think I am. I don't want anything specific. Just make your favorite."

He blinked up at her. _ His _ favorite? Why couldn't he think of what that could possibly be? He could only think of dishes _ she _loved. "Okay." He murmured softly, his voice suddenly hard to find.

"Afterward, maybe we could go to the beach? One last time— I don't live anywhere close to the ocean… and the waters here are so clear and beautiful."

"Sure." He glanced at his dresser where a shell sat that she found from the first time he took her there. She had been so excited, her eyes might as well have been glowing.

"You're the best!" She swiveled his chair around so he was facing her. "Luckily, I don't have to be at the airport until noon, so I don't have to go to bed while the sun's out."

He blinked up at her for a moment, slightly thrown off by his new orientation. "Yeah, didn't you mention you had to be there at 3 am when you first arrived here?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It was terrible. Lucky for me everything seems to be working out this time!"

_ 'Right, working out…' _ He forced a smile and rolled the chair closer to her. "And I'm happy for you. See? I told you everything would work out for you! And you didn't believe me." He shook his head and _ tsked. _"Have more confidence in me, my friend!"

_ His friend? _ Was it his fault they were the way they are? A couple in every way but in name? His stomach churned. How many opportunities did he have to set things right? To demand for what he wanted? And yet—

"It's not that, silly." She grabbed his face in both her hands and leaned in close. "I trust you. I have confidence in you, I would bet my life on you." She closed the distance between them for the second time that morning. But this kiss was different. Soaked with false meaning. If she knew the way his heart screamed, would she touch him like this anyway? So deeply, and slowly. As if he was hers to play with?

But that was it, wasn't it? He _ was. _He never told her otherwise. Never fought against it. He was a coward that hid behind false smiles, and fake laughter. A scoundrel that took what he could get. Desperate and starved. If she knew how much his tongue lied, would she hold him anyway? So gently, and softly. As if he was hers to keep?

She pulled away, taking with her a chunk of his heart and all the air in his chest.

"I just like when everything goes smoothly." She smiled and gave him another kiss, this one quick and simple. "I should probably let you get to it then huh? I can buy us something to drink at the beach later!" She grinned and spun around on her heel.

He watched her go, dumbfounded by the sudden loss of contact. _ 'Get to what?' _he thought for a moment. Had he missed something— the food! Sighing, he stood and moved over to the kitchen, where she sat atop one of the counters.

"What are you doing up there?" He asked, raising a brow.

"I'm going to watch you!" She grinned again and handed him a pan.

He took it wordlessly and turned to the spice cabinet. There were so many things he could make, but deciding on that one thing felt like such a laborious task. Mainly because, this would most likely be the last meal he'd make for her. He reached into the cabinet and took down a few spices, but kept one of the small containers in his hand. _ 'I should send her with some of this. She sure does love it…' _He glanced at his other cabinet— where he kept his tea. She loved tea too. He could—

"Claude?"

He jumped internally and glanced over to find her standing awfully close. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" She mumbled, and carefully took the jar from his hand, setting it on the counter.

_ Don't leave… _

"Huh? Yeah. Why?" He said casually, as if his world wasn't crumbling around him.

"Well, you look…troubled." She reached for his hand again but he stepped away before she could touch him. In an attempt to hide his recoil, he blindly reached into the cabinet again.

"I'm fine, my friend. Don't worry about me." He forced another smile.

She narrowed her eyes but thankfully dropped the issue.

A part of him, a feeble and pathetic part— wished she hadn't. Wished she pressed on. Maybe then he'd have the courage to tell her. And though he rehearsed it a million times, he didn't know where he would begin.

"Why don't you go over your checklist again? I'll let you know if I catch anything you missed and we can pick it up on our way back from the beach!" This time, the smile came easier. Like an actor after a warm up. He just needed to keep up the act until this time tomorrow.

Because then he wouldn't have to pretend anymore.

"Alright. Let's see…" She hummed a tune he often sang and climbed back on top of the counter.

He listened diligently as she listed off the things she was packing, things she would need, and things she was leaving behind. Throughout the whole ordeal, he kept hoping she'd make some sort of mention of him. After all, she _ was _ leaving him behind. His chest tightened. Did it make him any less than he already felt? Wanting acknowledgement? But of course, he deserved it. He didn't have the courage to say anything. Did it mean he respected her less for complying? For adhering to her wishes?

His heart ached at the thought. It had been her that had asked, her that had initiated each kiss— at least the ones on her lips. Those weren't rare, but each time a part of him broke. Because it reminded him of what he couldn't have. What she had made clear before she didn't want. Yet for some reason, she was fine with giving them out. Sometimes casually, and sometimes with enough fire to scorch his insides.

She was a monsoon of strength and courage, and he barely a drop of rain in comparison.

"Claude? Hellooo?" She tugged on his braid.

"Yes?" He handed her a dish, impressed with his ability to complete such a nice looking meal when his mind had been elsewhere.

"You weren't listening." She stuck her lip out in a pout.

"Of course I was, my friend." He served himself and joined her on the counter.

"What did I say I needed then?" Despite the obvious steam coming from the dish. She still shoveled spoonfuls in her mouth, wincing at the heat.

He reached over her and filled a glass of water, then handed it to her. "Patience. Or someone to feed you so you won't burn your insides."

"Very funny." She rolled her eyes and gulped down half of the glass. Surprisingly, she handed him her spoon and looked up at him expectantly.

With a smirk he scooped up some food and blew on it gently. "You said you still need to pick up some new hairbands, because and I quote:" He grinned and changed his voice into a terrible mock of her own. "_ My last one is breaking and I can't be on such a long flight without some new hair ties!" _

"I don't sound that whiney!" She protested with a glare.

He smirked again and popped the spoon into her mouth. "Yes you do."

"No, you do!" She yelled, mouth still full. She finished and continued. "Especially when you're cold! Gosh, your car is always such a sauna! No air conditioning! Ever!"

He scoffed and held another spoonful by her mouth, to which she accepted without hesitation. "I always turn the air on for you!" He used the edge of the spoon to clean the corners of her mouth.

"Which is where the whining comes in." She declared smugly and opened her mouth again.

This time he put the spoon in his own mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." She _ was _ right…

But in his defense, being too warm was so much better than being too cold!

"Hey!" She laughed and snatched the spoon away. "You have your own plate." She resumed eating herself.

He shook his head and finished his food in silence. Briefly, he thought about riling her up again. Saying something stupid, or something funny. Anything just to keep his mind occupied. But he didn't want to get her too angry and cancel her wish to go out later.

So he settled on staying silent, whilst she hummed his favorite song.

* * *

She was tossing her bag in his car way before he even got his shoes on at the door.

"Come on slowpoke! It's well past noon already!" She yelled from the passenger side.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, sheesh." He grumbled and jogged over to the car, groaning when he buckled in to find the AC blasting.

She gave him a smug look. As if daring him to complain.

He didn't. He just stuck his tongue out at her and drove off to the boardwalk.

As it turned out, her idea of drinks ended up being a snow cone.

"Flavored ice? When you said drink, I was hoping for—I dunno— something I could_ drink _." He sighed and stepped away from the vendor to see if anything else caught his eye.

"Baby." She muttered and elbowed his side. "Do you want some milk too?" She snickered.

"Hmm, you know what? A milkshake sounds fantastic!" He nudged her towards a small shop. "A promise is a promise, my friend!"

"Fine." She laughed and tugged him by the arm. "But don't think you're going to stay outside while I order for you!"

"I wouldn't dream of it." Despite everything, her joy was infectious, and he couldn't help the smile that filled his face.

She ended up getting herself something too and dragged him outside by the arm. "Let's pick up my hair ties, then I want to go out by the water."

He followed close behind her, not at all surprised when they stopped at nearly every store along the way. Not to buy anything, but she was an avid window shopper. Besides, he didn't mind. Anything to drag out the day.

By the time she actually _ did _ manage to get her coveted hair ties, the sun was nearing the horizon and Claude felt nothing but dread when he realized as such.

"Where did the day go?" He mumbled with a sigh.

"Hm, to me it felt rather long." Balaiya said at his side and rushed ahead of him. "C'mon, I still want to hang out by the water." She beckoned him forward with a wave of her hand.

Like a magnet drawn to another, he was already in motion to follow. He could care less if it started raining! If she wanted to be outside, he'd be right there too— if she wished it.

He hung back behind her while she walked along the edge of the beach, every so often, a wave would rush up and slap their feet. Whenever a particularly larger tide would wash up to her knees she'd gasp in surprise, only to turn back to him with a wide grin.

Each time he offered her one in return, but the further the sun sank, the heavier he felt.

Occasionally she ran up to him and handed him some shells she picked up, just so he could look at them.

When the sky was awash with brilliant reds and golds she stopped her trek and set her things down in the sand.

"Remember when I first went to the beach?" She glanced over at him with a smile. "I got such a terrible burn."

He shook his head. "You looked like a lobster." Images of her reddened skin flashed through his memory, and the guilt came with it. "I felt so bad— I didn't even think about getting you sunscreen…"

"That was my fault. But! I've learned a lot since then." She held her arms out and turned to face him. "I've even managed to tan while living here!" She laughed slightly. "Wait till my brother sees me."

"Eh, you're still white." He grinned and dodged a blow aimed at his arm.

"Whatever!" She rolled her eyes and turned back to the water and frowned. "I forgot my swimsuit."

"Why didn't you mention it earlier? I could have gotten you another, or went back to get yours. Whichever."

She shrugged. "I just thought of it." Sighing she reached for the edges of her shirt and pulled it over her head.

"What are you doing?" Though he'd seen her undress too many times to count, something compelled him to look away. It couldn't be because he was a gentleman at heart, no he was far from that. If he were, he wouldn't have seen her undress in the first place. Could it be because they were in public?

"Getting undressed." She stated matter of factly. "I don't have a change of clothes." She turned to him as she pushed down her shorts. "Stop acting like you've never seen my boobs before!"

"I'm not!" He protested, cheeks burning. "I'm just—" He sighed and held his sweater out in front of her, to shield her from possible onlookers. "Balaiya! There's still people out!"

She laughed softly. And he couldn't help but peek back at her from over the rim of his sweater.

"They're so far away they look like dots, Claude." She smiled and motioned with her head to the waves behind her, the last rays of the sun framed her silhouette like a golden halo. "If you need me, I'll be over there." She winked and ran off into the waves.

"You're crazy!" He called after her. But he knew the truth— she was brave, brash, and blunt. But so incredible, intelligent, and independent.

"You can stay there if you want!" She yelled from the water, a grin visible on her face. "But if you want to join me, you have to drop 'em!"

His face grew hotter in embarrassment, he wasn't normally so self conscious. So why was he so bothered by it now?. "I'll just guard your stuff…" Sighing, he sat down by the haphazard pile that was her clothes.

"Baby!"

He rolled his eyes and placed his sweater on the sand then folded her clothes on top of it, placing her shirt and pants on top of her undergarments.

"Am not!"

She didn't respond, in fact when he looked over at the waves he couldn't see her. Panic shot into his stomach.

"Bala?" He jumped to his feet and hurried to the water's edge. Terrifying scenarios filled his head. Did she get caught by a wave current? Did a strong wave push her under?

A second later, her head popped out of the surface and she threw a ball of seaweed at him.

He sighed in relief, feeling more than a little stupid. "Ha, very funny." He grumbled and dodged her projectile.

"You're lucky it wasn't a rock! I'd have knocked you out!" She shouted, swimming closer.

"I still would have dodged it. Besides, I have a better aim than you, my friend."

She opened and closed her hand to mock him. "Yeah, yeah— Mr. I won a gold medal in the school's archery competition."

"It's a nice medal." He confirmed with a nod.

"Yeah, I've heard." She attempted a splash at him.

"I worked hard for it you know." He added proudly.

"I know. I'm proud of you." She managed to flick water in his face the second time.

They'd had this conversation before, each time she always managed to bring heat to his face when she praised him in some way. This time was no different, and he was grateful that the sunset altered the lighting around him.

He returned to her things and watched her in silence. Now and then she would do some crazy tricks and all he would see were her feet.

After dusk started to set in she moved closer to the shore to speak. "Claude, you know what would be great?"

"What?"

"If you joined me."

Why was he expecting something different? "What if someone steals your clothes?" He protested.

She raised an eyebrow. "Then I'd have to go back naked."

"That's what we're trying to avoid." He called back.

"You can just give me your shirt if that happens!"

He sighed. There was really no phasing her was there?

"I won't look." She offered after a long moment of just the gentle waves echoing in the space between them.

"**Fine**." He grumbled. He could never say no to her.

She grinned and turned around while he removed his clothes and joined her in the blasted water.

Why was he so reserved about the whole thing? He was usually the one encouraging her to_ let loose _, yet here he was acting like a feeble lamb. He hated it. What had gotten into him?

Her voice came from behind him and he jumped back, startled. "Welcome to the party, _ my friend _." The last phrase rolled off her tongue like a purr, and sent a shiver crawling down his spine.

"What party? The one the fish are going to have when they grab at my bits?" He warily looked around the water, and though the night was well lit by the plethora of stars that flickered above them— it was still hard to see **in** the water.

She laughed and splashed him. "They're not going to bite you."

"You really don't know that." He countered.

She eyed him for a moment then moved closer to him. "I guess I don't." She said with a shrug.

"That's so reassuring." He mumbled and looked over her briefly.

Big mistake.

She looked ethereal in the bright light the moon cast on her. As if she were meant to bask in it's glow. He inhaled sharply when she reached for him, each drop off water that fell from her hand were like stones as they hit the surface. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled him—almost shyly— towards her. So unlike how she usually moved.

"Are you alright?" He asked her quietly, afraid to disrupt whatever vulnerability he saw swirling in her eyes.

"Yeah…" She chewed her bottom lip and slipped her other hand in his hair. Her thumb pressed small circles into his head. "Claude?" Her voice came out in a waver that sparked worry in his chest.

"Yes?" He breathed out quietly.

There was a ringing in his ears, which only seemed to increase the longer she held him there. Why wasn't she continuing? What did she have to say? His heart was also threatening to leap out of his throat, and he feared with all the commotion going on within him he'd miss what she had to say.

After looking over him for probably the hundredth time since she said his name she finally spoke. "Can you…kiss me?"

Something in him was surely going to burst. Strangely enough, the first thing that came to mind was: **why**?

Why was she asking him?

Why now?

Why while he stood with his back curved painfully so he wouldn't stand too close.

Why while she held his face captive?

Did he really have a choice?

But that vulnerability in her face hadn't left. In fact it shone so much brighter now that he wasn't sure if he was just seeing his own emotions reflected back at him.

She loosened her grip on him and looked down. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"

He kissed her fiercely.

He'd never been so forward with her, But he kept his hands away from her, afraid of what he would do.

She only tightened her grip, gasping out a breath before diving in deeper, pulling him closer and parting her lips.

She tasted of salt and the smallest hint of strawberries. His hands itched to hold her, and his body burned for more.

He was almost relieved when she pulled away. Sudden enough for the sound to pass his ears. Like the snap of someone's fingers.

She licked her lips slowly, brows furrowed. "We should get back." She mumbled, avoiding eye contact and rushed for the shore

He probably would have stayed out there in the waves had she not dragged him behind her by the wrist.

The ringing in his ears continued even after they were dressed and clicking in the seatbelts of his car. Automatically, he drove with the AC on and the windows rolled down, the turns home happened almost on their own.

He's nearly deaf when they get back to their apartment and she doesn't say a word when she flys past him to jump in the shower.

He feels numb by the time he walks back in their room after his turn.

_ Their _ room? Was it really? It had been his at first. But for the past year, she would rest her head nowhere else. Nearly everything on top of his dresser _ had _ been hers. But now it was empty. Everything packed away and sealed tight. He was also ninety percent sure some of the shirts she threw in her suitcase had been his at one point.

She's still awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the blanket draped over her head like a cloak when he walked in.

Claude wanted to tell her to go to sleep. She does need to be up tomorrow, and while she doesn't need to be there until noon—she should still be there early. Instead he sat beside her in silence, a thousand words whirling through his head. But that's all they are, words. What do they even mean? What are they supposed to mean? What does he_ want _ them to mean? He has an idea, but he's too afraid to try it. Too afraid to get hurt.

If his mentor from childhood could see him now, surely he'd laugh. Nader was a brave force of a man, always encouraged the best out of him. He helped kick him out of the terrible rebellious stage of his youth. Sometimes quite literally. If he could see him now, surely he'd scoff at his cowardice.

She turned to him, slow and deliberate. Much of her face was hidden in the darkness that surrounded them. The only thing he could really see is the glint of her eyes as they beautifully catch the moonlight from the window.

He has to strain to hear her.

"Thank you for taking me." She mumbled. "To the beach. I had fun."

His mouth moved, but he barely caught his own words. "I'm glad."

She scooched closer. "Are you okay?"

_ Of course not. _

"Yeah. I'm just…tired." He said with a sigh.

"Me too."

After another moment she slipped under the covers. He stayed on top of them. His bed wasn't really big and if he did use the blankets too, he'd no doubt brush her arm with his in the small space.

Why didn't he just go to his couch? Yeah it'd be cramped but for the first time_ ever _, he felt like he shouldn't be near her. He didn't know how long he stared at his empty ceiling, but he was really considering moving, he couldn't sleep anyway.

But like always she had other plans.

"Claude? Are you awake?"

She was whispering, so she really didn't know if he was awake or not, and he hadn't seen her move to actually check. He could pretend he _ was _ asleep.

"Yeah." He turned on his side to face her, thankfully his back was to the window so he'd be veiled in darkness.

Whatever light did reach them was drawn to her face. Her brows were furrowed but he couldn't make out too much besides the way her teeth worried her lip.

"Can you…kiss me?_ Please _?"

There it was again, but this time— perhaps for the first time, she sounded so scared. He was torn between ignoring her and complying. It wasn't too late. He reasoned, he could still play off being asleep. He could still pretend. He reasoned as he set his forearms down on either side of her head. Their noses nearly touching from the proximity.

"Why?"

He didn't realize he actually asked her until he saw her eyes widen. Heard the shake in her voice.

"I… don't know."

She didn't know? How could she not know? He wanted to be angry. Balaiya always knew what she wanted, didn't she? She would have it under any circumstances. Wouldn't she?

Despite everything, despite the voice telling him_ no. _Despite the ache in his own chest. A smile snuck onto his face.

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge how often she actually said that to him. How often he held her while she cried.

"That's okay, my friend. Whatever you need, you can always call me."

Slowly, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned down. He pressed his lips softly into the column of her neck, a shiver passed through her so intensely he felt the goosebumps on her skin.

He trailed around her jawline slowly, then moved up and placed a single kiss to her cheeks then one on her forehead. Each featherlight.

Her lips were trembling when he brushed his own over hers. He carefully cupped her face in his hand and finally closed the gap between them.

This time was a stark contrast from the one on the beach. He held her face gently, as if she would shatter if he wasn't too careful. Delicately, because to him— no matter what— she _ was _ precious. And if she asked him, he'd cross an ocean for her.

After what felt like a lifetime and simultaneously too soon she had pulled away, but her eyes moved over to his bedside table.

He understood easily and was away for only a moment but he was pathetically eager to drown in her again. The moment she hooked her leg around him he was lost.

Deep in an undertow of heated desire and wanton sighs.

Every movement was different, every touch was both electric and shy. Filled with quiet whispers of _ is this okay? _ And a countless number of breathless mantras of _ please. _ So very different from their first time together and far too overwhelming.

So much about it was slow, so very slow— every intake of breath that dripped off her lips only drew him deeper into everything that was her.

Just so he wouldn't completely lose himself, he pulled back to take a breath. A single silken thread spooling from their lips caught the light and his eyes trailed up to her face, a part of him freezing when he noticed the glimmer by her eyes.

But she shook her head, a smile on her lips and she carded her fingers through his hair. She pulled him down and molded her lips back against his with a haunting whisper of_ : don't stop. _

If he were a better man, he would have pulled away anyway. Perhaps even stopped all together. But if he were, he wouldn't be here in the first place.

He was addicted to the way she pulled him, as if she never wanted to let him go. Her grip tightening on him in every way possible.

There was so much he wanted to tell her, because finally he knew what the words were that he had been searching for.

He _ loved _ her.

He wasn't sure when it had started, it could have been all along, but he'd missed the opportunity to say anything.

After all, it'd be selfish of him to tell her now.

Selfish to tell her when she was leaving.

He was selfish either way. For taking so much and giving so little.

There were things that passed her lips in short gasps. Things in her mother tongue he couldn't quite recognize.

But the hushed tones of her voice beckoned him in further, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if she lied as much as he did.


	6. Do You Remember?

A/N: The Next Chapter will be up in a few days! It will be another special!

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RoseGold25_: _ Another Claude Chapter is being considered... Possible present pov .Maybe. I'll have to see how it fits with my outline.

Thank you for reading!

.

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Chapter 6: _Do You Remember?_

_._

.

_—where you're going has no place for me. If you had wished it so, I would have found a space. In any case that issue has passed, and in the morning I'll be waving my goodbyes. I can't believe you're really leaving. It feels like just yesterday I met you for the first time. Would you believe me if I said I feel as if I've known you forever? _

_I'm slipping this letter with your luggage, along with a box of my favorite things. I hope you can look back on your time here with as much fondness as I do. Once you are settled in back home, do give me a call! It would be great if we can keep in touch, I can even try to visit you in a few months. I have family in Fódlan, so I might be able to stay with them? I know Fódlan is big, but maybe we can meet in the middle? I'll make sure my number stays the same it's always been, and never forget: _

_Whatever you need, you can always call me. _

_— Claude _

_P.S: Know that wherever the stars may take you, there will always be a place for you beside me.  
_

.

.

She had to have read the letter a thousand times by now. He thought **_he_** was selfish? She covered her face with her hands. How long did he believe such a thing? Was it from the very beginning? She rolled over and buried her face into her pillow. Hoping to suffocate.

She thought back on the contents of the box, he'd given her nearly everything she'd used or things he had given her. _His_ favorite things?

That was _her_ seashell.

Bangles he'd let _her_ wear…

Photos of _her _…

If his number was still the same after all this time…

She sat up so quickly she got dizzy. Blindly she reached for her phone and quickly opened up the keypad— she froze.

Would he really keep his number the same just for her? Did she even remember it? He'd asked both in person and in this letter for her to tell him when she got home. She'd done the exact opposite. If that wasn't a slap in the face to their friendship… Not to mention the texts she ignored before changing her number…

Dread bubbled inside her but she slowly input a number, then another, each number echoed in her head in time with her screaming heartbeat, until the full sequence stared back at her brightly.

Her finger hovered over the _call _button but she moved no further. How could she?

If he answered, what would she say? _'Hi sorry I blatantly ignored your attempts to reach out to me. I was running away from you because you were too nice?' _

That sounded so stupid.

If he recognized her voice, what would he do?

_Again _, she wondered, what if he didn't?

"Stop being a coward Bala." She muttered with a scowl, but that's all she could do. Guilt tied her down so heavily it made her want to scream. He may have kept his number the same… but she hadn't. She took the first chance she could to change it, to start over. Start new. What if he tried to call her, only to be met with a dial tone?

She was a different person now. She'd been away from him longer than she'd known him. They were young, she realized that now. Twenty three felt so mature, but as she sat now on the cusp of her twenty-ninth year, huddled over language dictionaries beneath a sky of glowing plastic stars she realized now how foolish she had been. How foolish she still was. She had tried so hard to move forward, to swim through against the raging stream of life that she failed to realize the simple things.

He had opened up her eyes to a world of new things, shone her how easy life really could be. Tossed her a ring to hold on to, shared his boat with her— his life. Offered her his support through kind smiles, lazy smiles, gentle smiles. And she took it all in, thirsty for anything she could get her hands on. And when she had her fill, she tossed herself back in the stream to drown again, claiming independence, grasping for something she left behind. Chasing after something she didn't know she had no idea what it was.

Why didn't she keep in touch?

She looked back down at the phone and inhaled slowly. It was now or never, and she'd tried never, it didn't work.

Her phone rang. The sound startled her so much she almost dropped the small device. Like the hurried mess she was she scrambled to check the ID, for a moment— her heart stopped.

The screen read: _Leth. _

Deflating like a worn balloon she quickly pressed the answer key, what was she expecting?

"Hello?"

"Hi, Bala."

She sighed. "Hi."

Silence greeted her on the other end for a few moments. "What's wrong?" He asked her simply.

"Nothing." She covered her face with her hand. Of course he would know something was wrong. "How are you?" She asked in an attempt to distract him. But things like that rarely worked on her brother, that wouldn't stop her from trying of course. "How are things in Sreng?"

Something that sounded like dishes clanked around on his end. "Good, our program ended smoothly. Depending on how the paperwork goes through I might be able to head home sooner."

"Oh that's good." It would definitely be nice to have him home. "Don't rush though." She stuck her feet in her slippers and made her way downstairs.

"Mhm, and you? How have you been? Have you been able to settle smoothly enough?"

She walked into the kitchen and took out a bag of cookies, labeled by hand in Mercedes's looped cursive. "Yup. No hiccups."

More silence, followed by a sigh. "You're stressed." It was a statement, not a question, he always seemed to be able to tell with her. Then again, getting evicted was never a walk in the park. So he must assume she was lying.

"Ah, of course I am. I lost my place, Leth." She shoved some cookies in her mouth.

"So you lied?"

Annoyance jabbed her in the side. "What? About what?"

"Bala, you said there were no hiccups,clearly that's not the case."

She could hear someone whispering to him on his end every now and again, and for some reason that really irked her. "Leth, the retreat to my childhood room went dandy! I've been feeling—" She inhaled sharply.

Feeling pathetic, worthless. A failure.

He didn't deserve this, she was taking out her frustration on him for no reason. He'd called her to check in on her and she was grateful for it. "Just— be safe okay? I'll see you when you get home."

"…Alright, same for you. How's Dad?"

"He's…" She didn't want to tell him about his current state. How lately he's been smoking more than a chimney, how she hears him coughing so intensely at night she's afraid he might choke. "Chugging along." She did her best to sound casual, but the silence that followed told her that he wasn't on board.

"I see. Well, take care Bala. I'll see you soon enough."

"Okay, see you."

When she finally hung up the phone, her cheek was sweaty and a few strands of hair stuck to her face. She didn't know how long she stared at the wall, but when her Father's heavy footsteps announced his arrival to the room— she greeted him with a smile.

"Morning Dad."

"Mornin' Kiddo." He shuffled past her and poured himself some coffee. "Did you want any?" He asked over his shoulder.

"Sure."

He moved over to the table and set a mug down across from her.

She thanked him and moved the mug closer to her. "Have you heard from Leth? He just called me this morning, says he might come home early."

"Yeah, I talked to him last night. He said he's bringing a friend back with him. It's been too long since he's been home." He dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a lighter.

She frowned deeply at him. Smoking in the house was something that he used to never do, but this new habit had started within the last few months of her being back home, and it just kept getting worse. At first she was just ignoring it, but now? It bothered her. More so than anything. Her frown only increased when she fully processed what her father had said. Her brother was bringing someone back with him? Why hadn't he mentioned it to her while she was on the phone with him?

Granted, she hadn't given him much of an opportunity to let him.

She sighed heavily and quickly went over the few people he would tell her about in passing, but she couldn't decide on who. Despite being twins, she hadn't talked much with him since they started their professional lives. They kept in touch, sure but not like she wanted to.

And ever since she moved back home, she was reaching out even less so.

"Who is he bringing?" She asked quietly.

He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply on it before answering. "One of his coworkers. She started the program with him last year. We should do something fun together when they get here."

She resisted the urge to cover her nose. "Oh…yeah, that will be fun."

"That reminds me. How about you Bala? That program you did— phew— is it running up on six years now? Do you still keep in touch with anyone?"

"Oh. No…I don't." She glanced back at her phone and hesitantly opened up the key pad again. The number was still there. Staring at her.

"Well that's a shame." He took another drag from his cigarette.

"There was someone though…"She sighed heavily and slouched back in her chair. "But, I stopped talking to them as soon as I got back home."

"Is there a specific reason?"

"Well, I don't really know…I guess…I was caught up in work?" She looked down at her phone and started backspacing the number. Who was she kidding? It wasn't a good idea, no matter how much she wanted to. Logically, this was a bad decision, wasn't it? She allowed her friends to stuff her with hope for something that just wouldn't be a good idea realistically.

"You weren't really close to them?"

She pursed her lips together when memories flooded her with exactly how close they had been. _Too _close.

"Not really…we were friends. Study partners." She lied. Or was it? It wasn't a lie, that much was true, but she could hardly see a scenario where telling her father she slept with said study partner— on a daily— was a good idea.

"It happens to all of us." Jeralt said with a sigh. "But, you have the girls. Speaking of, how are they doing?"

Pushing her phone back into her pocket she looked up at him with a shrug. "They're all doing alright. Hilda's been very adamant about getting everything ready for Dorothea's wedding and all that comes with it. I got my dress for the bachelorette party a few weeks ago, but I still don't have the dress _for _the wedding itself. You know, since I'm a bridesmaid." She rubbed her hand over her eyes. Despite not doing much the last few days, she was tired. Nothing seemed to give her energy lately, no matter how much coffee she drank.

"Eh, good luck with that, Bala. These events can get pretty hectic." He pressed the cigarette butt in the ashtray between them. "On that note, I haven't seen you in a dress since your head barely reached the table." He chuckled to himself. "You used to have the cutest bows in your hair…"

She smiled slightly, but on seeing the frown that took over his face she too lost her smile. She stopped wearing dresses and bows after her mother passed away.

Her mother whom she barely remembered.

Her mother whose delicate touch still haunted the walls of her childhood home.

They'd lost her so suddenly none of them were prepared for the fallout, and still nearly two decades later, the briefest mention of her still soured the room. More specifically, her father's mood.

She needed to change the topic, if not the weight of it all would crush her. But what could she possibly talk about?. She reached into the bag of cookies she'd been working on for some time only to find it empty.

Jeralt laughed shortly. "Wow, you sure finished those quickly. Did Mercedes make them?"

"Yeah. She did." Sighing heavily, she cumbled up the paper bag and tossed it into the bin that sat in the corner of the room.

"How's she doing? It's been awhile since I've seen her."

"She's alright. As sweet as always." Talking about her friends was usually a good escape, because topics surrounding their immediate family always ended with someone feeling choked. Whether it was known to the other person or not.

"She started seeing this guy that was visiting her shop daily. Can you believe that? I was skeptical at first but he seems really nice. I've been taking her to her dates actually. But lately she's been letting him pick her up."

"This guy went to her shop daily?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he spent a lot of money at her place. I guess he had a pretty rowdy teen life. Lucky for him it seems he's learned from it. Mercie can't stop talking about him, I'm happy she's happy." It was true. Mercedes had been through so much over the years that she'd known her. No one deserved to be happy more than Mercie, In her honest opinion. She deserved happiness in her life, especially when she spent so much of her free time giving back to others. Often receiving nothing in return.

She sat up in her chair, lifted by the conversation. "You know how Mercie likes to volunteer at her church?" Jeralt nodded and she continued, the smile reappearing on her face. "Well, somehow she convinced him to go with her for these events. I find it amusing because from what I know about him, at least about how he used to be, he wouldn't be caught dead doing things like that."

Jeralt scratched at his beard and leaned back in his chair. "I don't think she had to try very hard to _convince _him, Bala." His eyes settled on the book covered chair. "I don't know if you've ever experienced this, maybe you did at one point with your previous relationship, but love can make a person do just about anything."

_Love? _She bit the inside of her cheek. Did she ever say that to anyone she was in a relationship with?

"It can be simple." He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. "Simple things are usually the most telling. Did you know your mother owned a flower shop before we got together?"

Her heart skipped and she looked up at him quickly. He never volunteered information like this, but then again, she was always too afraid to ask. "I didn't" She whispered, scared she'd stop him from continuing.

To her relief he continued, and he said more about her than he had for as long as he could remember. "I used to go there everyday just to see her…Can _you _believe it took me weeks to even get the courage to say something to her? Besides what was necessary for the flower I bought every time."

"You must have spent a lot of money on flowers, huh?" She hadn't expected the conversation to veer in this direction, but she supposed this was one of those times where talking about her friends brought up something else.

"That I did." He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "The flowers always died pretty quickly. I was always so terrible at taking care of them. But when she finally did agree to go out with me, I took her to the best places I could afford. Imagine my surprise when the first place she asked me to go to with her was an animal shelter."

Her eyebrows rose. Based on what she could remember, her mother was sweet. Though she never put much thought into that, she was her mother, wasn't she supposed to care about her children? But the story her father was telling echoed many similarities to her friend, and Mercie was as sweet and kind as anyone could be.

"She also hated being cold. I always made sure I warmed the car up before she got in it during the winter." He laughed and sat up to look at her, a twinkle in his eye was present. One she couldn't even remember seeing. "Oh, but the summer was the worst. We always drove around without the air on. I think she wanted to air fry me."

_I always turn the air on for you! _

She felt color fill her cheeks, why would she remember that of all things? Though it _was _a conversation they had often, because she so liked to tease him so they often bickered over it. But that was just a normal reaction between _friends, _right?

"She loved to cook too, she was so good at it. I became her un-official taste tester."

"Did you ever taste anything bad that she made?" She asked in an attempt to keep the conversation going, but at the same time her heart started to pound faster and her head started to pulse. Why was she feeling so uneasy?

"No, never. There were some things I liked less than others, but if she made it I ate it." He examined his knuckles for a moment and turned his gaze off to the side.

"Did you have a favorite food?" It was an easy question, and though she wanted to know more about her mother, she also wanted the conversation to recede back into safer waters. Because for some reason, it was getting harder to breathe.

"A preference maybe, but you know this already."

"Ah, anything with meat?" She asked, forcing her voice to sound light.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, but you know I love to fish… Whenever I caught something good, well she would always make it better."

Now would be a good opportunity to change the subject. She could ask about what he wanted for lunch, if she should pick up something from the store.

"Do you remember…If there is anything specific you miss about her the most?" She found herself asking quietly. A part of her hoped he hadn't heard the question. Was it rude to ask something like that? Her mother wasn't with them anymore. She was never coming back, this whole conversation was just adding logs into the fire, wasn't it?

Yet, she was _her _mother. She deserved to know these things, didn't she?

Jeralt took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his face. "There isn't just one thing Bala… It's hard to pick, I could go on forever. I miss the food she used to cook for me, the sound of her laughter, the brilliant way her face would light up when she smiled. Her eyes, and all the colors I could find in them. Even her voice, she loved to sing, and even when she wasn't, she treated her words like they were a song."

Her heart was probably going to burst from her chest, she knew how much her father loved her mother, but she never heard him talk about her like that before.

Why did it hit so close to home?

And why was she feeling light headed?

Did _she _actually—


	7. Don't Look Back

A/N: Another Chapter set in the past.

RoseGold25:  I have not mentioned yet how she passed, so you haven't missed it!

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Chapter 7: _Don't Look Back_

_._

_._

The sun still hadn't poked through the window when she opened her eyes, and Balaiya had half a mind to stay snuggled in the blankets until it did decide to show its face.

However, something felt off and she wasn't quite sure what it was.

So she tried to sit up, but was hardly able to move.

"What the?" She mumbled groggily and propped herself up on her elbow to look around.

It was still pretty dark, but not dark enough that she couldn't see her surroundings. The sleep vanished from her eyes.

His head was on her chest. That wasn't the problem though, the problem was that she'd apparently passed out without getting dressed… she could_ not _have that.

_Dammit… _She tried to wriggle away—without waking him— but that proved harder than she thought because he had an arm around her. The more she moved the more he tightened his grip on her.

The longer it took her to figure out how to free herself the more of the previous nights events started to surface.

She was so embarrassed!

He'd never been so gentle with her before, even thinking back on it made her heart skip. She was so overwhelmed by it all that she nearly cried— did cry. She was more than embarrassed, she was mortified.

She grabbed one of his pillows and tried to coax him on to it instead. _Let me go, you idiot… _She thought to herself. Suspicion crept up on her, and she brushed his hair out of his face to see if he was actually awake, and just messing with her.

Her heart tightened— he looked so peaceful…

She smiled softly and gently brushed her thumb over his cheek. "You're such a baby…" she started pressing random patterns into his skin and nudged him. "Can you scoot, please?"

A few moments floated by and one of his eyes cracked open. He barely looked at her before he released her and rolled over.

Relief washed through her, but she held her breath to see if he'd move again. Thankfully, he remained asleep.

She carefully slipped out of the covers and gathered up her clothes, then snuck out to the bathroom to take a shower.

It was probably because she was now safe and alone, but she finally fully registered everything— she had to cover her face even though no one could see her.

The previous night!

She should have just gone to bed! But she'd asked for it, much like she had on many other occasions. Never did she expect such a change, why would he treat her so softly?

She thought she was going to melt into him, would have been happy if she had. The worst part? She'd uttered something forbidden, it slipped past her mask more than once in a garbled string of breathless cries. She choked it out like someone gasping desperately for air. Almost as desperately as she'd clung to him.

_I love you, oh, goddess…I love you… _

She chewed the inside of her cheek, she couldn't even remember how many times she said it. Her only saving grace was that she had spoken in Fódlani… as far as she was aware, he didn't understand much, if not, any of the language…

Finished in the bathroom, she hurried to move the rest of her stuff to his car. It was still very early and she couldn't bring herself to go back up there. When that was all taken care of, she still had time to spare so she went for a jog, hoping to clear her mind. It didn't work.

Her whole trip around the block has proven fruitless and if possible only made her feel more hopeless. _'And _I called out to the goddess? I'm not really even religious!' She thought for the hundredth time as she returned to the house. "What should I do… I wish Hilda was here…Oh no, that's a terrible idea, I can't tell her any of this…". The sun was up by now and she decided to set an alarm to remind her to wake him up.

She snatched a pillow off the couch and buried her face in it. If he did understand her, then what would she say? Should she pretend she didn't remember? More importantly, **why** did she say it? Was that what people talk about, being caught up in the moment? They say confessions like that were not meant to be taken seriously.

That had to be it. She didn't _actually _feel that way…it was just a reaction influenced by hormones, nothing more. Fretting over nothing wouldn't do her good at all.

Besides, they were friends! She never wanted a relationship. She told him as much. She had no reason to worry… Still,

_I'm flattered but I'm here to study. I'm not looking for anything. _

Had turned into.

_We're just helping each other out… _

_To, _

_Can you kiss me? _

What the hell had gotten into her? It was far too late to be asking this, she just didn't expect things to get blown so… out of proportion. It wasn't supposed to get messy!

What if she ruined their friendship?

Did they even actually have one?

Was there even a line anymore?

His footsteps in the kitchen told her he was awake, and she hurriedly tossed the pillow to the side. She snatched the remote off the coffee table and turned on the TV in front of her, and tried to look interested in whatever the people on the screen were droning on about.

He walked in the room a few seconds later, and she could just feel his presence radiating behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Should she be casual? Maybe act like she hasn't noticed him?

"Have you eaten yet?" He asked after a moment.

"Huh?" She tensed. He sounded closer than she initially thought. "No, not really. I had some tea this morning." She turned to look at him.

He stood behind the couch with a bowl of assorted fruit, his eyes still heavy, from lack of sleep no doubt. "Do you want some?" He held the bowl closer to her.

"Oh, sure." Smiling, she took a few grapes from his plate.

He walked around the couch and dropped heavily next to her. Causing her to lean towards him. "You already moved your things to the car?" He turned to face her, a frown on his lips. "How long have you been up?"

Her eyes widened when she got a good look at his face. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought someone punched his jaw…

She glanced to the side to avoid eye contact and scooched away. "Uh, I've been up for… a while."

That was all_ her? _She couldn't remember ever doing something like _… that _before… she didn't like leaving…evidence.

"Why didn't you wake me up then? I told you I'd help."

"I set an alarm to wake you. It just didn't go off yet." She shoved all the grapes in her mouth at once, a failed attempt to distract herself. She hoped he didn't notice she didn't actually answer his question.

Maybe because she was afraid of what he would say if he saw her in such a state?

Could it be because he looked so content in his sleep?

Amusement filled his eyes and he shook his head. "You better be careful, my friend. Wouldn't want you getting hurt."

"I'll be fine." She grumbled and reached for the bowl again.

He held it away from her. "Nuh-uh, I believe I asked you a question, my friend. No more treats for you till you answer~."

Evidently, it seemed he did notice, at least he wasn't treating her differently. Glaring she reached over him anyway.

A bad decision apparently.

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her off balance, sending her crashing into his chest. "Nice try."

She could just hear the smugness in this voice, not to mention_ feel _the words reverberating in his chest. Face on fire, she pushed herself up, her cheeks burned even more when she realized she might as well be sitting on him.

His neck looked worse than his jaw.

A new wave of embarrassment crashed into her and she scrambled off him and stood up. "Why are you playing around Claude? I have to get going soon." She said, voice clipped.

He raised his eyebrows but made no attempt to move. Instead, he remained slouched into the couch, and slowly popped a strawberry in his mouth.

She had planned on going off about something, but whatever that had been was currently going up in smoke the longer he just stared at her.

It made her feel angry. Frustrated!

Confused.

Was he _trying _to get on her nerves?

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Hello? Are you trying to make me late?"

"It's 9 o'clock, my friend." He yawned dramatically and held a strawberry up to her. "We'll leave by ten, promise."

She looked between the fruit and his stupid face. "What are you doing?" She muttered.

"Providing you with sustenance, oh fairest of ladies~" He waved the strawberry at her and winked.

She did her best to keep the frown on her face but within seconds her face was split into a grin so wide her cheeks hurt. "You're so, ugh—" She rolled her eyes and reached for the damn fruit.

He pulled his hand back with a smirk. "Dashing? Roguishly handsome? Why thank you!"

She groaned. "Claude!" She was so frustrated she could strangle him!

"Yes _m'lady _?" He waved the strawberry at her again.

She placed her hands on her hips. "Why are you talking like that?"

"What ever could you mean, fair lady?" Another wave.

"Like you're some stupid knight or something!" She reached for the strawberry again, only to miss.

"Aw, is it so hard to see me as a knight in shining armor?" He pouted. "I think I would make a fine knight." He smirked when she failed again.

"Nope, I think I would be the knight of the two of us." She scowled and moved closer till her knees bumped his. He moved them apart and she leaned into his space.

"Ah, you see, there's a problem here. I'm the only one who knows how to use a_ weapon." _

"A bow and arrow doesn't sound like a reliable close combat weapon, _Claude. _Besides! A knight could use their fists as a weapon!" She protested.

"Hey! Why do you always take jabs at my skills?"

"Because you always shove them in my face! Just give me some bear claws, watch what happens."

He chuckled and raised a brow. "I quake in fear. Oh, but do tell me more."

"You should." She scoffed. "I think I fit the qualifications of a knight more, actually."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Knights are honorable." She stated simply, but even as the words left her lips a voice echoed in the back of her head. Mocking her. She was anything but honorable…

He gasped, a hand flying over his heart. "And you think me not?"

"Well… are you not trying to '_ come hither' _me with a strawberry?" Heat flared into her face when the implications of the way she used the phrase settled. She hadn't meant it like _that _…

Pink was also invading _his _cheeks, and despite herself, she smirked.

She did love to tease him.

What she didn't expect was his voice to come out so soft. Yet low, despite the silly conversation.

"_ Will _you?"

Because, of course it would, her heart started hammering in her chest.

She bit her lip and leaned in closer. "Will I, what?" Was she daring him? Giving him an out? Or both?

_Bad idea _. She screamed internally. Half of her reasoned that this wasn't a big deal, was a conversation really so bad? The other half scolded her as it **always** did. This wasn't fair to him after all. Especially after last night! She needed to make sure she kept that line between them… or redraw it! Something! Build a new barrier. If she didn't… would she ever be able to secure their friendship?

His voice stayed low, and he dropped any trace of teasing or jest.

"Come hither."

This conversation was ridiculous, stupid. She had to wonder how the hell did it start out anyway? The words themselves were so cliché and overused in all the terrible books she would read in private. Often she would roll her eyes in annoyance! How could anyone think that was even even—

And yet, she couldn't remember ever feeling her knees go so weak so quickly before now.

But it was the _way _he said it that really got to her, the way he watched her so intensely with darkened, hooded eyes, and lips parted ever so slightly. It made her think about the phrase's implications…

Her palms felt clammy, she didn't know what to do with them. For the first time that she could remember she was afraid to touch him.

So she pressed them on the couch besides his head, and carefully leaned closer. Not so effectively caging him in because the smallest breeze would definitely topple her over.

He stared up at her for an immeasurable amount of time, because everytime she tried to count, she always forgot what number she was on.

Something cool pressed against her lips and she startled internally. Glancing down, she discovered the culprit: the strawberry.

Hesitantly, she parted her lips and slowly took a bite.

The crisp sound it made sent another wave of color to her cheeks. She probably looked just like the strawberry…

She really, _really _wanted to kiss him… but she shot that down quickly. She'd been too casual about things like that! And she was only _now _realizing it. Maybe… if she asked him if he _wanted _to… If he agreed, would _that _change anything? Would they be any different?

It had been awhile since she asked him if he wanted anything…

And right now, she was sure she'd give him anything…

She took a breath to speak but was interrupted by the other half of the fruit being pushed into her mouth. Maybe it would be better if she died of embarrassment. A drop of the juice trickled past her lips, after she finished, he swiped his finger up the trail and over her lips.

Her heart was strumming loudly in her ears, so loud in fact she wasn't sure if she'd be able to hear anything else.

His finger still sat dangerously against her lips, then he applied the smallest amount of pressure.

That was all that was needed to break the dam she had haphazardly slapped together. Eyes fluttering closed, she parted her lips and eagerly took his finger into her mouth, pressing her tongue against it.

She knew she was selfish, she'd almost made peace with that, but she didn't fully realize just how greedy she was until now. She wanted him to hold her like he did last night. To touch her in the way he did that made her feel wanted, revered, beautiful even…

A spike of jealousy hit her. She wondered just how it would feel if he shared himself with someone he _loved _. If he could treat _her _like that, instead of whatever it was that they had between them… what would that be like? Would it be at all like it had been the night before? Was there a difference? Could she deserve something like that?

A blaring sound startled her and she pulled away from him quickly. The wet _pop _that echoed after her—somehow louder than the phone— taunted her as she fumbled for the stop button. Her ears burned.

The stupid alarm she'd set earlier!

Once it was off, she scrambled away from him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'll um… wait in the car…" She mumbled breathlessly, eyes downcast. She couldn't look at him now! Not after that! If she could just disappear into the nether that would save her from a whole lot.

She snatched her bag off the floor and scurried off to the car.

Time alone so she could think would be best right now, because apparently she didn't have any self control. Apparently, she had no shame…

She swung the car door open, doing her best to ignore the sweltering heat that slammed her in the face. A car in the summer heat was always bad, but a car sitting out in the _Almyran _summer sun was so much worse.

Once she was settled, she cranked up the AC in an attempt to make it snow. She pulled down the mirror above her and glared heavily at herself.

"What are you _doing _Bala? He doesn't even— you're leaving! Idiot!" She covered her face with her hands. _'He'd be glad to be rid of you too!' _ She thought. ' _Just stop forcing yourself on him for one moment!' _

She was going to start her new life back home. Her dream job was finally in her grasp, she worked so hard for this. And yet…

She took a deep breath and looked around slowly.

She would miss the sun, the sands, the smell of the ocean in the air. The beautiful colors in the sky. The vivid greenery. The love the people had for the land around them. She was just a visitor, her time had expired

More than any of that, she would miss her friend, whom she cared for _so _deeply. With whom she could spend an entire afternoon, the whole day even, laying on the ground, staring at the sky. Not even exchanging words, but still having a good time.

Her friend, that loved board games and never gave her the easy way out.

Her friend, who loved to cook and introduced her to so many different new flavors, and smells. She would try anything if it was made by his hand…

Her friend that loved a dated form of combat. But he was brilliant at it! She enjoyed watching his tournaments, and would feel a rush of excitement whenever he won. Not that she would ever tell him that…

Her _friend _, who only ever sang to himself, but always allowed her to listen. She discovered her favorite songs through the melody of his voice.

Her friend? That had an oud hanging over his bed, not just for looks. She couldn't remember how many times she fell asleep to it's tune…

He made her feel welcomed, wanted, and could wash her woes away with the simple sound of his laugh…

It was time she burst that bubble, it wouldn't do her good to get caught up on her time here. She needed to move on, and in doing so allow him to do so too. She saw the way women looked at him, knew how often they giggled about their chances, possibilities. What he could do. What_ they _would do. Yet for some reason he never took them up on their offers!

"I'm holding him back…" She whispered solemnly and nervously chewed her thumbnail. On the bright side, she'd be gone in a few hours…

Then maybe he'd finally accept the offer from that woman at the coffee shop. Or the one they often saw at the park…or the one that lived down the street.

Another spike of jealousy hit her. She hated the idea, hated knowing she hated it! Perhaps… the real problem was her.

The trunk of the car opened up and she heard some shuffling.

She sat up quickly and cracked open the window. "What are you doing back there?"

"Just putting something in here you forgot."

"Oh…thank you." She called back.

"Mhm." He closed the trunk and got into the driver's side. ""Whoa! It's a blizzard in here, my friend! Have you got any ice cream for me hidden anywhere?"

"Very funny…" She mumbled. "It's not that cold in here."

He made a show of pulling his sleeves over his hands then dug into his pocket. "Here you go." He held out a granola bar.

She sighed and took the bar from him. "Thank you." She looked over him quickly.

He was wearing the black hoodie she bought him after graduation last week, the one with a yellow silhouette of the sun on the back. His hair was damp and swept haphazardly out of his eyes. The fresh smell of his soap hit her next and she shifted closer to the window.

"You took a shower?" She asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Yup." He pulled the car out of the driveway and into the street.

She wanted to keep her eyes on the street, or the scenery as it sped by. But she kept finding herself staring at his profile. Something was different about him, and it was nagging at her terribly.

"Claude?"

"Hmm?"

"Where's your braid?" She asked, frowning. It was such a constant trait of his that it felt strange looking at him without it.

"Ah, I was going to re do it once my hair dried out." He glanced over at her and gestured up to his still damp hair. "As you can see, the temperature hasn't helped it much."

_Oh, right of course _. Because she was trying to turn them both into blocks of ice. But, he'd come prepared with a sweater. As he so often did. That didn't help his hair.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled after a moment.

"Nonsense." He waved her off.

"You know… if you want ice cream, I'm sure you can go with that girl who we keep magically running into at the grocery store." She glared at her reflection in the window. "She always asks you if you're free."

"Ah, which one?"

"You know, the one with the really pretty dark hair…"

"Umm, nope. Doesn't ring a bell."

She rolled her eyes. "Her name is Shirin!"

"Shirin?..." He repeated the name to himself a few times then scoffed. "Ah, you mean the girl who_ accidently _spilled soda on you? Yeah, no."

She turned to face him. "What? No she—" it occurred to her then that she did in fact soil the blouse she was wearing that day with a red drink. But it_ was _an accident! "It was an accident! It was crowded that day… I'm surprised you remember that."

"Well, she shouldn't have been drinking anything in the line anyway." He rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, she's sweet. She's always so nice to you, her parents named her well!"

"Eh, I can argue that for ages, my friend."

"Sure you could."

"I'm _so _glad you have confidence in me."

She groaned and looked back out the window. Quietly, she murmured "You know I do…"

If he heard, he didn't let on so she refrained from asking anything else for the rest of the ride.

.

.

He kept his hoodie on even when they got to the airport, but she was comfortable enough in her shorts and t-shirt. Thanks to the escort pass he got his hands on, he was able to accompany her all the way to the gate.

"What's the first thing you'll do when you get back?" He asked once she tossed side her third outdated magazine. According to the clock on the wall, she had fifteen minutes until boarding, finally.

"Uhh… probably hug my dad. Then my brother. I miss them." She leaned back on the too hard seat and stared up at the ceiling. The harsh fluorescents glared down at her and she closed her eyes to avoid their scrutiny.

_'Would the three of them get along? _' She wondered to herself. Claude was such a personable person, he could get along with a room full of strangers. Then again, her father especially was the opposite of that. He didn't like talking to people much, let alone people he didn't know. Still, she was sure Claude would not have trouble breaking his cold exterior.

_Then again _, that question would probably remain unanswered forever… She sat up and turned to him. He was tapping out some unknown rhythm on his knee with his fingers as he watched people walk back and forth in front of them.

Claude had brought up the idea of going_ with _her to Fódlan some time ago. But she shot that down quickly. Perhaps too quickly.

After all, his family lived here! Why would he leave them behind? He never said how long he would be either, though she never gave him the chance to consider it.

…

_"That's not a good idea Claude. What about your family? You can't abandon them." She frowned at him through the mirror she sat in front of. Just where was he getting such an idea anyway? _

_He scoffed. "They'll be fine! I'd be disappointed if they couldn't manage without me for a while." He held his palm out to her and she placed a hair tie in the center. He then busied himself with securing one of her braids before starting on another one. _

_"How long though? And what would you do in Fódlan?" She thought of the letter he received a few days ago and shook her head, well tried to but he stilled her. _

_"Ah, be still, my friend." He mumbled, eyes focused on his handiwork. _

_She sighed. "You were given an opportunity _**_here_**_. You can't give that up! What will all of the time spent in school be for then?" _

_"I know, I know… but, I can learn the language. My skills are transferable, you know." He tied up that braid then reached for the comb in his pocket. "I'm sure I could find something… I wouldn't mind menial labor for a few months…whatever works." he shrugged, "besides, I'd be with you." _

_She met his eyes in the mirror and frowned. "I'm sorry. I can't let you do that to yourself." _

_... _

She covered her face with her hands. He would be better off without someone like her anyway. Someone wasn't capable of knowing what they wanted… she thought she knew! She got her degree, and now her dream job! But why did she still feel so lost?...

A voice came over the intercom and announced her gate as _now boarding. _

Robotically, she stood and turned to face him.

He stood as well and faced her with a crooked smile. "Ah, looks like it's that time already."

She nodded slowly and looked up at him. She tried to smile, but she felt too heavy. "So it is… goodbye Claude." She took a deep breath. "It was nice meeting you." She stuck her hand out.

He tilted his head and frowned, his eyes sweeping over her quickly. "Why so morbid, my friend? We'll see each other again."

She frowned and gestured for him to take her hand. "I'm not being morbid. I'm just saying _goodbye _. Don't be difficult."

He took her hand gently. "Ah, me? Difficult? I think you have me confused with yourself. C'mere." He tugged her forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

She yelped in surprise. "What are you—"

"It was nice to meet you too, my friend." He mumbled into her hair and she went silent. He pressed one hand to the back of her head . "See you later sounds so much better, doesn't it?" He tightened his hold. "Call me when you get there, yeah?"

She could have sworn he pressed a kiss to her head, but she knew better than to believe such a thing.

She allowed herself to relax into his embrace, because by the stars did she want this. To stay here with him. To continue to explore whatever this thing was between them. This thing that was surely building up for a long time. This thing that she had been blind to. But that wouldn't be fair, and it was far too late. And she needed to forget whatever she thought was happening, because she had made her choice.

It was the most logical one.

She hoped it was.

She wanted to hug him too… but she was afraid… afraid she wouldn't be able to let go… or that she'd start crying.

Carefully, she slipped her hands to his chest and pushed him back. He released her quickly and stepped further away. Her throat burned something fierce, and it only worsened when she saw the troubled way he looked at her.

He moved to put more distance between them, but she grabbed his hand in hers before he could move too far. She kept her head down, but tightened her grip on his hand. "Thank you for being my friend. I hope you find someone that you—that you can share your happiness with."

"Balaiya… why are you talking like that?" He whispered, his voice sounded too vulnerable to be real. It carved into her chest and left her bleeding.

Her head snapped up to look at him, he hardly ever said her name. When he did, it was never like_ that _. She blinked up at him owlishly, and for a moment she had to wonder if he felt as torn as she did. Or was she just projecting her inner turmoil onto the way his brows furrowed? The subtle way his voice wavered.

"I'm wishing good fortune for you." She mumbled, then forced a laugh. "Is it so wrong for me to wish for you to find someone you can share your life with?" She looked away.

"No, I—No I didn't—"

"Last call!" The intercom announced and she bent to pick up her bag.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but her words died before they even properly formed. There were a thousand things she wanted to say, but she wouldn't know where to start. She had more questions than answers and she had long since missed the opportunity to figure it all out . Instead she bowed her head again and gently placed a kiss to his knuckles.

_Much like a knight would _,

but she was far from honorable.

Perhaps she was more akin to a thief. Stealing all she could and running off with her findings.

"Goodbye…" In one motion she dropped his hand and hurried towards the gate.

She kept her head down all the way there, not bothering to even look up in front of her. Not even when she got into the plane, or when she got to her seat, squeezed between two others who could care less for her personal space.

She tried to make it a clean break. Like a bandaid.

Was saying _goodbye _not clear enough? What should she have done, said?

_We shouldn't be friends anymore? _

_It's not you, it's me? _

That felt so childish! And too much like a break up! But they weren't dating, and she **didn't** feel that way about him. No matter how much her heart hurt…she _didn't _.

They were just friends, with… without boundaries. Which was a mistake in itself. Again, that was her fault, and she knew that.

She felt prickly and splintered. Like an open wound exposed to the air. And it was all her own doing. She just prayed to whatever, whoever was out there, that he didn't feel the sting.

Shakily, she took out her phone and opened up his contact.

_We shouldn't talk anymore… _

_I meant it when I said goodbye. _

_I need some time to think… _

_It's not your fault. _

_I'm not worth it… _

_I'm so sorry. _

She deleted it all and put her phone on airplane mode. Mostly, because she didn't want to risk receiving any messages—she didn't know what she would say. Maybe she would think of something when she got there…

Only when the plane had finally leveled in the air did she look up and turn her head towards the window.

And all she saw was the sun.


End file.
